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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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1.0 


1.1 


11.25 


Li^|8    |25 
itt  Uii   12.2 

■tiKU 

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Photografiiic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


33  WBT  MAIN  STRHT 

wnSTIR,N.Y.  MSM 

(7l«)t7a-4S03 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Instituta  for  Historical  IMicroraproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microraproductions  liistoriquas 


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M'^i 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notas/Notas  tachniquas  at  bibliographiquas 


Tha  Instituta  has  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  bast 
original  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturas  of  this 
copy  which  may  ba  bibliographically  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagas  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  changa 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  chaclcad  below. 


0 


D 


D 


D 

D 


D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagAe 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restauria  at/ou  pellicula 


I      I   Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


I      I    Coloured  maps/ 


Cartes  g^ographiquas  an  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleita  ou  noire) 


I      I   Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  an  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relid  avec  d'autras  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serrde  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marga  intiriaura 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  tha  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certainas  pages  blanches  ajouttes 
lore  d'une  restauration  apparaissant  dans  la  taxte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  iti  filmtes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplAmentairas; 


TN 
to 


L'institut  a  microfilm^  la  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  M  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
da  cat  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-Otre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibUographiqua,  qui  pauvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mithoda  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiqute  ci-dessous. 


I     I   Coloured  pages/ 


D 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagias 


□   Pages  restored  and/or  luminatad/ 
Pages  restaurAas  at/ou  pelliculAes 


Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d6colorAes,  tacheties  ou  piquies 


I      I    Pages  detached/ 


Pages  ditachdas 

Showthroughy 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Qualit^  inigala  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  matarii 
Comprend  du  matikrial  supplimentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Saule  Edition  disponible 


rri  Showthrough/ 

I      I  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I      I  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

n~|  Only  edition  available/ 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalament  ou  partiallemntnt 
obscurcies  par  un  fauillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  At6  filmies  A  nouveau  de  faqon  it 
obtanir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


Thi 
poi 
of 
filnl 


Ori 
be( 
tha 
sio 
oth 
firs 
sioi 
or 


Thi 
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whi 

Ma 
diff 
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bag 
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mel 


This  item  is  filmed  at  tha  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmi  au  taux  da  rMuction  indiquA  ci-dassous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


V 

12X 


16X 


aox 


24X 


28X 


32X 


fi 


1^^ 


■0 


'M 


m 


The  copy  filmed  here  hes  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Library  of  the  Public 
Archives  of  Canada 


L'exempiaire  film*  fut  reproduit  grice  h  la 
gAnirositA  de: 

iA  bibllothAque  des  Archives 
publlques  du  Canada 


The  images  appearing  hare  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  In  Iceeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  Illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  bacit  cover  when  appropriate.  Ail 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shell  contain  the  symbol  — ^>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  txh  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soln,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettett  de  l'exempiaire  filmA,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplalres  orlglnaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprlmte  sent  fllmAs  en  commengant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplalres 
orlglnaux  sont  flimte  en  commengant  par  la 
premlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaftra  sur  la 
dernlAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — ►  signifle  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifle  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  lerge  to  be 
entirely  Included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmte  h  des  taux  de  rMuction  diff6rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seui  clichA,  II  est  film*  A  partir 
de  Tangle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  heut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaira.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mtthode. 


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THE 


P  R  A I B I E-B I B  D. 


'I    t 


>      »4. 


BT  THE   HON. 

'•';■•'  :  ;  ill  ./  I. 


CHARLES   AUGUSTUS    MURRAY, 


ArtHOR   OP 


"TRAVELS    IN    NORTH    AMERICA." 


Ferdinand.           \ 

Most  sure  the  goddess 

On  whom  these  airs  attend —                                       ;    '. 

My  prime  request  \         ., 

^^-l''i■r  .Vi: 

Which  I  do  last  pronounce  is,  0  you  wonder, 

"1  J  t!V   .  Vfr-,i 

If  yoD  be  maid  or  nol 

1  --- 

■q  ifN-v  -'!(.({ 

Miranda. 

No  wonder,  sir, 

"^-    '         .•">,;'>  .; 

But  certainly  a  maid. 

Ferdinand. 

My  language,  Heavens ! 

.1    ■ 

.iK  i;^;- 

Tempett,  act  i. 

vf.v:- 

-■::    •    .      '.J  '.V     '  .,\/yS\    ; 

1  r 

•  ■     \ 

Ui'U,  .                   ^    . 

fit    ■ 

NEW- YORK: 

PUBLISHED   BY   HARPER    &   BROTHERS, 

No.  82  Cliff-Street. 


?fU  \<> 


18  44. 


4, 


'.M,    \ 


PREFACE. 


=  vU    -«•  *^  -XhA-  o'*^  • 


"  I  HATE  a  Preface !"  Such  will  probably 
be  the  reader's  exclamation  on  opening  this 
volume.  I  will,  however,  pursue  the  sub- 
ject a  little  farther  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue. 

Author.  "  I  entirely  agree  in.  your  dislike 
of  a  Preface ;  for  a  good  book  needs  none, 
and  a  dull  book  cannot  be  mended  by  it." 

Reader.  "  If,  then,  you  coincide  in  my 
opinion,  why  write  a  Preface  ?  Judging 
from  appearances,  your  book  is  long  enough 
without  one !" 

A.  "  Do  not  be  too  severe ;  it  is  precisely 
because  the  road  which  we  propose  to 
travel  together  is  of  considerable  extent, 
that  I  wish  to  warn  you  at  the  outset  of 
the  nature  of  the  scenery,  and  the  enter- 
tainment you  are  likely  to  meet  with,  in 
order  that  you  may,  if  these  afford  you 
no  attraction,  turn  aside  and  seek  better 
amusemenc  and  occupation  elsewhere." 

R.  "  That  seems  plausible  enough ;  yet, 
how  can  I  be  assured  that  the  reach  will 
fulfil  your  promise  1  I  once  travelled  in 
a  stage-coach,  wherein  was  suspended,  for 
the  Iwnefit  of  passengers,  a  coloured  print 
of  the  watering-place  which  was  our  des- 
tination ;  it  represented  a  magnificent  hotel, 
with  extensive  gardens  and  shrabberies, 
throuffh  the  shMy  walks  of  which,  gayly 
attired  parties  were  promenading  on  horse- 
back and  on  foot.  When  we  arrived,  I 
found  myself  at  a  large,  square,  unsightly 
inn  by  the  sea-side,  where  neither  flower, 
shrub,  nor  tree  was  to  be  seen ;  and  on  in- 
quiry, I  was  informed  that  the  print  rep- 
resented the  hotel  as  the  proprietor  in- 
tended it  to  be !  Suppose  I  were  to  meet 
with  a  similar  disappointment  in  my  jour- 
ney with  you  1*' 

A.  "I  can  at  least  offer  you  this  comfort; 
that  whereas  you  could  not  have  got  out 
of  the  stage  half  way  oo  the  road  without 


much  inconvenience,  you  can  easily  lay 
down  the  book  whenever  you  find  it  be- 
coming tedious;  if  you  seek  for  amuse- 
ment only,  you  probably  will  be  disap- 
Eointed,  because  one  of  my  chief  aims  has 
een  to  afford  you  correct  information  re- 
specting the  habits,  condition,  and  charac- 
ter of  the  North  American  Indians  and 
those  bordering  on  their  territory.  I  have 
introduced,  also,  several  incidents  founded 
on  actual  occurrences ;  and  some  of  them, 
as  well  as  of  the  characters,  are  sketched 
from  personal  observation." 

R.  "Indeed!  you  are  then  the  individual 
who  resided  with  the  Pawnees,  and  pub- 
lished, a  few  years  since,  your  Travels  in 
North  America.  I  suppose  we  may  ex- 
pect in  this  volume  a  sort  of  potpourri, 
composed  of  all  the  notes,  anecdotes,  and 
observations  which  you  could  not  conve- 
niently squeeze  into  your  former  bock  \" 

A.  (looking  rather  fooliih).  "  Although 
the  terms  in'which  you  have  worded  your 
conjecture  are  not  the  most  flattering,  I 
own  that  it  is  not  altogether  without  found- 
ation ;  nevertheless,  gentle  reader—" 

R.  "  Spare  your  epithets  of  endearment ; 
or,  at  least,  reserve  them  until  I  have  sat- 
isfied myself  that  I  can  reply  in  a  similar 
strain." 

A.  "  Nay,  it  is  too  churlish  to  censure  a 
harmless  courtesy  that  has  been  adopted 
even  by  the  greatest  dramatists  and  novel- 
ists from  the  time  of  Shakspeare  to  the 
present  day." 

R.  "  It  may  be  so ;  permit  me,  however, 
to  request,  in  the  words  of  one  of  those 
dramatists  to  whom  you  refer,  that  you 
will  be  so  obliging  as  to 

'  Forbau  tha  pnlogve, 
And  l«t  me  kaow  tlw  lulMtanc*  of  tbjr  Ula !' " 

Th»  Orfhrna. 


-, )  I  -  ••  •• 

THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


i-j". 


CHAPTER  I. 

la  which  the  rtMiar  will  llnd  ■  iktleh  of  a  Tillage  In  the 
Wmi,  and  will  be  InUoditoed  lo  eonie  of  the  dninsli* 
penona. 

Thrre  is,  perhaps,  no  country  in  the  Wdrld 
more  favoured,  in  respect  to  natural  advanta- 
ges, than  the  State  of  Ohio  in  North  America : 
the  soil  is  of  inexhaustible  fertility ;  the  climate 
temperate ;  the  rivers,  flowing  into  Lake  Erie 
to  the  north,  and  through  the  Ohio  into  the 
Mississippi  to  the  south-west,  are  navigable  for 
many  hundreds  of  miles,  the  forests  abound 
with  the  finest  timber,  and  even  the  bowels  of 
the  earth  pay,  in  various  kinds  of  n  Ineral,  abun- 
dant contribution  to  the  general  wealth :  the 
southern  frontier  of  the  State  is  bounded  by  the 
noble  river  from  which  she  derives  her  name, 
and  which  obtained  from  the  early  French  tra- 
ders and  missionaries  the  well-deserved  appel- 1 
lation  of  "  La  Belle  Rivior^," 

Towns  and  cities  arc  now  multiplying  upon 
its  banks ;  the  axe  has  kid  low  vi.st  tracts  of 
its  forests ;  the  plough  has  passed  over  many 
thousand  acres  of  the  prairies  whioh  it  fertil- 
ized ;  and  crowds  of  steamboats,  laden  with 
goods,  manufacture*,  and  |)assengers  from  eve- 
ry part  of  the  wortd,  urge  their  busy  way 
through  its  wM^rs. 

Far  diflbreht  was  the  appearance  and  condi- 
tion of  that  region  at  the  period  when  the  events 
detailed  in  the  following  narrative  occurred. 
The  reader  must  bear  in  mind  that,  at  the  close 
bf  the  last  century,  the  vast  tracts  of  forest  and 
prairie  now  forming  the  States  of  Ohio,  Indiana, 
ar:d  Illinois,  were  all  included  in  what  was  then 
called  the  North-west  Territory :  it  was  still  in- 
habited by  numerous  bands  of  Indian  tribes,  of 
cvhich  the  most  powerful  were  the  Lenape  or 
Delawares,  the  Shawanons,  the  Miamies,  and 
the  Wyandots  or  Hurons. 

Here  and  there,  at  favourable  positions  on 
the  navigable  rivers,  were  trading  post*)  defend- 
ed hy  small  forts,  to  which  the  Indians  brought 
their  skins  of  bear)  deer,  bi^n,  and  beaver ; 
receiving  in  exchange,  powder,  rifles,  paint, 
hatchets,  knives,  blankefts,  and  other  articles, 
which,  although  ttnknowin  to  their  forefathers, 
had  become  to  them,  t'hrongh  their  intercourse 
with  the  whites,  mimbered  among  the  necessa- 
ries of  life.  Bat  the  a'bove-mentioned  animals, 
especialSy  the  la^two,  were  already  scarce  in 
this  re^tiin  ;  nitd  the  more  enterprising  of  the 
hunters,  IhtKali  as  well  as  white  men,  made 
annual  exctMions  to  the  wild  and  boundless 
hunting-groliitd,  westward  of  the  Mississippi. 

At  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the 
villages  and  settlements  on  the  north  bank  of 
the  Ohio,  being  scarce  and  far  apart,  were  built, 
rattier  for  the  purpose  of  trading  with  the  In- 
"dians  than  for  agriculture  or  civilized  industry ; 


and  their  inhabitants  were  as  bold  and  hardy, 
liometimea  as  wild  and  lawless,  as  the  red  men, 
with  whom  they  were  beginning  to  dispute  the 
soil. 

Numerous  quarrels  arose  between  these  west- 
ern settlers  and  their  Indian  neighbours ;  blood 
was  frequently  shed,  and  fierce  retaliation  en- 
sued, which  ended  in  open  hostility.  The  half- 
disciplined  militia,  aided  sometimes  by  regular 
troops,  invaded  and  burnt  the  Indian  villages ; 
while  the  red  men,  seldom  able  to  cope  with 
their  enemy  in  thu  open  field,  cut  ofT  detached 
parties,  massacred  unprotected  families,  and  so 
swin  and  indiscriminate  was  their  revenge,  that 
settlements,  at  some  distance  from  the  scene 
of  war,  were  often  aroused  at  midnight  by  the 
unexpected  alarm  of  the  war-whoop  and  the 
firebrand.  There  were  occasions,  however, 
when  the  Indians  boldly  atracked  and  defeatcftl 
the  troops  sent  against  them;  but  General 
Wayne,  having  taken  the  command  of  the  west- 
ern forces  (about  four  years  before  the  com- 
mencement of  our  tale),  routed  them  at  the  bat- 
tle of  the  Miamies  with  great  slaughter ;  ader 
which  many  of  them  went  off*  to  the  Missaiit 
plains,  and  those  who  remained,  no  more  ven- 
tured to  appear  in  the  field  against  the  United 
States. 

One  of  the  earliest  trading  posts  established 
in  that  region  was  Marietta,  a  pretly  village 
situated  at  the  mouth  of  the  Muskingum  river, 
where  it  falls  into  the  Ohio.  Even  so  far  back 
as  the  year  1799  it  boasted  a  church,  severtl 
taverns,  a  strong  block-house,  serving  as  a  pr^ 
tection  against  an  attack  from  the  Indians; 
stores  for  the  sale  of  grocery ;  and,  in  abort, 
such  a  collection  of  buildings  as  has,  in  more 
than  one  instance  in  the  western  states  of 
America,  grnwn  into  a  city  with  unexampled 
rapidity. 

This  bu  .:<d  flourishing  village  had  taken 
the  lead,  ot  al;  others  within  a  hundred  miles, 
in  the  construction -nf  vessels  for  the  navigation 
of  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi ;  nay,  some  of  the 
more  enterprising  merchants  there  settled,  .had 
actually  built,  launched,  and  freighted  bkifB  «<«1 
schooners  of  sufficient  burthen  to  brave  the  seas 
in  the  Mexican  gulf;  and  had  opened,  in  theic 
little  inland  port,  a  direct  trade  with  the  ^/iPest 
Indian  islands,  to  which  they  exported  flour, 
pork,  maize,  and  other  articles,  their  vesaels 
returning  laden  with  fruit,  coflTee,  sugar,  and 
rum. 

The  largest  store  in  the  village,  situated  in 
the  centre  of  a  row  of  houses  fronting  the  river, 
was  built  of  brick,  and  divided  into  several 
compartments,  wherein  were  to  be  found  all 
the  necessaries  of  life,— all  such  at  least  as 
were  called  for  by  the  inhabitants  of  Marietta 
and  its  nei|,hbourhood  ;  one  of  these  compart- 
ments was  crowded  with  skins  and  furs  ihiai 


/I 


THE   PRAIRIEBIRD. 


t 


the  North-wfltt,  and  witli  clolhea,  cottons,  and 
woollen  BtiifT*,  from  Cntflnnd  ;  the  second  with 
earthi'nware,  cutlery,  mirrors,  rilles,  stoves, 
grat»  H,  cite. ;  while  in  the  third,  which  was  cer- 
tainly the  most  frcciiienied,  were  sold  flour,  tea, 
sugar,  rum,  whiskey,  gunpowder,  spices,  cured 
pork,  tSic.  ;  and  in  a  deep  corner  or  recess  of  the 
latter  was  a  trap-door,  not  very  often  tipened, 
but  which  led  to  a  cellar,  wherein  was  stored  a 
reasiinahle  quuntity  of  Madeira  and  claret,  the 
quality  of  which  would  not  have  disgraced  the 
best  hotel  in  Philadelphia. 

Over  iliis  multifarious  property  on  sale,  pre- 
aided  David  Muir,  a  bony,  long-armed  man  of 
ahout  forty-five  years  of  age,  whoso  red,  bristly 
hair,  pre  iiinent  cheek  bones,  and  sharp,  sunken 
gray  eyed,  would,  without  the  confirming  evi- 
dence of  his  broad  Scottish  accent,  have  indi- 
cated to  an  experienced  observer  ilie  country 
to  which  he  owed  his  birth.  In  the  duties  of 
his  employment,  David  was  well  seconded  by 
his  helpmate,— a  tal',  powerful  woman,  whose 
features,  though  strong  and  masculine,  retained 
the  marks  of  early  beauty,  and  whose  voice, 
when  raised  in  wrath,  reached  the  ears  of  every 
individual,  even  in  the  farthest  compartment  of 
the  extensive  store  above  described. 

David  was  a  shrewd,  enterprising  fellow,  trust- 
worthy in  matters  of  business,  and  peaceable 
enough  in  temper ;  though  in  more  than  onn  af- 
fray, which  had  arisen  in  conseiiuencc  of  some 
of  his  customers,  whitemen  and  Indians,  having 
taken  on  the  spot  too  much  of  his  "  tire-water," 
ho  had  shown  that  he  was  not  to  be  affronted 
with  impunity  ;  nevertheless  in  the  presence  of 
Mrs.  Christie  (so  was  his  spouse  called)  he  was 
gentle  and  subdued,  never  attempting  to  rebel 
against  an  authority  which  an  experience  of 
twenty  years  had  proved  to  be  irresistible  ;  one 
only  child,  aged  now  about  eighteen,  was  the 
fruit  of  tlieir  marriage  ;  and  Jessie  Muir  was 
certainly  more  pleasing  in  her  manners  and  in 
her  appearance  than  might  have  been  expected 
from  her  parentage ;  she  assisted  her  mother  in 
cooking,  baking,  and  other  domestic  duties,  and, 
when  not  thus  engaged,  read  or  worked  in  a 
corner  of  the  cotton  and  silk  compartment  over 
which  she  presided  ;  two  lads,  engaged  at  a 
salary  of  four  dollars  a  week,  to  assist  in  the 
sale,  care,  and  package  of  the  goods,  completed 
David's  establishment,  which  was  perhaps  the 
largest  and  the  best  provided  that  could  be  found 
westward  of  the  Alleghany  mountains. 

It  must  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  all 
tbis  property  was  his  own  :  it  belonged  for  the 
most  part  to  Colonel  Brandon,  a  gentleman  who 
resided  on  his  farm,  seven  or  eight  miles  from 
the  village,  and  who  entrusted  David  Muir  with 
the  entire  charge  of  the  stores  in  Marietta  ;  the 
cocounls  of  the  business  were  regularly  audited 
by  the  colonel  once  every  year,  and  a  fair  share 
of  the  profits  as  regularly  made  over  to  David, 
whose  accuracy  and  integrity  had  given  much 
satisfaction  to  his  principal. 

Three  of  the  largest  trading  vessels  from  the 
port  of  Marietta  were  owned  and  freighted  by 
Colonel  Brandon  ;  the  command  and  manage- 
ment of  them  being  entrusted  by  him  to  Edward 
iJlheibiu,.,  a  young  man  who,  being  now  in  his 
twenty-eighth  year,  discharged  the  duty  of  cap- 
tain and  supercargo  witii  the  greatest  steadiness, 
'ttbility,  and  success. 


As  young  Ethclilon  and  family  will  occupy  a 
consideruhle  place  in  our  narrative,  it  may  be 
as  well  todetail  briefly  the  circumstances  which 
led  to  hisenjoying  so  large  a  share  of  the  colo- 
nel's alfectioii  and  confidence. 

About  eleven  years  before  the  date  mentioned 
as  being  that  of  the  commencement  of  our  tale, 
Ccdonel  Uraiidim,  having  sold  his  property  in 
Virginia,  had  moved  to  the  Northwest  Territo- 
ry, with  his  wife  and  his  two  children,  Keginald 
and  Lucy  ;  he  had  persuaded,  at  the  same  tune, 
a  Virginian  friend,  Digby  Kihelston,  who,  like 
himself,  was  descended  from  an  ancient  royalist 
family  in  the  mother  country,  to  accompany  him 
in  this  migration ;  the  feelings,  associations, 
and  pr*>juiJices  of  both  the  friends  had  been 
frequently  wounded  during  the  war  which  ter- 
minated in  the  independence  of  the  United 
States  ;  for  not  only  were  both  attached  by  those 
feelings  and  associations  to  the  old  country,  but 
they  had  also  near  connexions  resident  there, 
with  whom  they  kept  up  a  friendly  intercourse. 

It  was  not,  therefore,  difficult  for  Colonel 
Brandon  to  persuade  his  friend  to  join  him  in 
his  proposed  emigration  ;  the  latter  who  was  a 
widower,  and  who,  like  the  Colonel,  had  only 
two  children,  was  fortunate  in  having  under  his 
roof  a  sister,  who  being  now  past  the  prime  of 
life,  de  looted  herself  entirely  to  the  charge  of  her 
brother's  household.  Aunt  Mary  (for  she  was 
known  by  no  other  name)  expressed  neither 
aversion  nor  alarm  at  the  prospect  of  settling 
permanently  in  so  remote  a  region  ;  and  the  two 
families  moved  accordingly,  with  goods  and 
chattels,  to  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 

The  colonol  and  his  friend  were  both  possess- 
ed of  considerable  properly',  a  portion  of  which 
they  invested  in  the  fur  companies,  which  at  that 
time  carried  on  extensive  traffic  in  the  north- 
west territory ;  they  also  acquired  from  the 
United  Stales  government  large  tracts  of  land 
at  no  great  distance  from  Marietta,  upon  which 
each  selected  an  agreeable  site  for  bis  farm  or 
country- residence. 

Their  houses  were  not  far  apart,  and  though 
rudely  built  at  first,  they  gradually  assumed  a 
more  comfortable  appearaixte ;  wmgs  were  ad- 
ded, stables  enlarged,  the  gardens  and  peach- 
orchards  were  well  fenced,  and  the  adjoining 
tarm-ofiices  amply  slocked  with  horsca  and  cat- 
tle. 

For  two  years  all  went  on  prosperously  ;  the 
boys,  Edward  Ethelston  and  Keginald  Brandon, 
were  as  fond  of  each  other  as  their  fathers 
could  desire  ;  the  former  being  three  years  the 
senior,  and  possessed  of  excellent  qualities  oi 
head  and  heart,  controlled  the  ardent  and  some- 
what romantic  temper  of  lleginakl ;  both  were 
at  school  near  Philadelphia  ;  when  on  a  beauti- 
ful day  in  June,  Mr.  Ethelston  and  Aunt  Mary 
walked  over  to  pay  a  visit  to  Mr*.  Brandon, 
leaving  little  Evelyn  (who  was  then  about  eight 
years  old)  with  her  nurse  at  home;  they  re- 
mained at  Cokmel  Brandon's  to  dine,  and  were 
on  the  point  of  returning  in  the  afternoon,  when 
a  farm-servant  of  Mr.  Eihelston's  rushed  into 
the  room  where  the  two  gentlemen  were  sitlirg 
alone  ;  he  was  pale,  breathless,  and  so  agitated 
that  he  aould  not  utter  a  syllable :  "  For  hea- 
ven's sake, 'speak  !  What  has  happened  1"  ex- 
claimed Colonel  Brandon. 

A  dreadful  pause  eaaued ;  at  length,  he  ra- 


ther  gaipe 
buried  his 
■ome  horrii 
Poor  Eih 
the  preaciei 
"  What  i 
Brandon ;  > 
dians  enoiin 
devil  have 
A  groan  i 
The  colo 
claimed,  " 
■eems  to  hti 
senses !    I 
trusted  you 
as  this!" 

Incensed 

"  Colonel ! 

aeen,  as  the 

been  skearc 

for  my  bein 

down  fight,  < 

who  says  it- 

"  I  believi 

nel ;  "  but  k 

what  has  ha 

"  Why  yd 

Jem  and  Eli 

behind  the  li 

meadow  a 

heard  a  cry 

in  a  moment 

rifles  and  toi 

thickut,  and 

fore  they  coi 

by  the  worm 

ter  the  nurse 

the  rest  broj 

sacked  and  e 

"  But  my 

"  I  fear  it'i 

this  dreadful 

scalp  the  nui 

awe-struck 

Ethelston,  w 

bloodless  lipt 

words  which 

"  Speak  0 

said  the  Col 

the  tremblini 

"  I  seed  th 

child,  and  1 1 

to  save  it,  \ 

broke  out,  an 

low  the  gar( 

time  I  got  ou 

devils  were  t 

and  barns  all 

Poor  Elbe 

words — they 

his  breast,  hi 

sively ;  and  i 

sounds  came 

thing  could  I 

"  tomahawk,' 

It  is  needl 

lowed  this  pa 

fortunate  labo 

♦  It  may  be  n< 
readers,  that  a  v 
iiion  in  the  new 
plenttfU. 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


ther  gasped  than  taid,  "  The  Indiana !"  and 
buried  hia  face  in  his  hands,  as  if  to  shut  out 
some  horrid  spectacle. 

P<ior  Ethelston's  tongue  clove  to  his  mouth  ; 
the  presvicnt  agony  of  a  father  overcamn  him. 
"  What  ol'the  Indians,  mani"  said  Colonel 
Brandon  ;  angrily,  "  'sblood,  we  have  seen  In- 
dians enoiigli  heruiihout  before  now ; — what  the 
devil  have  they  been  at  V 
A  groan  and  a  shudder  was  the  only  reply. 
The  colonel  now  lust  all  patience,  and  ex- 
claimed, "  By  heavens,  the  sight  of  a  red  skin 
aeenis  to  have  Irightened  the  fellow  out  of  his 
senses  !    I  did  not  know,  Ethelston,  that  you 
trusted  >our  farm-stock  to  such  a  chicken-heart 
as  this !" 

Incensed  by  tliis  taunt  the  rough  lad  replied, 
"  Colonel !  fur  all  as  you  bo  so  bold,  and  have 
seen,  as  they  say,  a  blomly  field  or  two,  you'd  a' 
been  akeared  if  you'd  a'  seen  Mi«  job  ;  but  as 
for  niy  being  afeared  of  Ingians  in  an  up  and 
down  fight,  or  in  a  tree-skriinmage — I  don't  care 
who  says  it — I'aint  a  fact." 

"  I  believe  it,  my  good  fellow,"  said  the  Colo- 
nel ;  "  hut  keep  us  no  longer  in  suspense  — say, 
what  has  happen«d!" 

"  Why  you  see,  Olonel,  about  an  hour  ago, 
Jem  and  Eliab  was  at  work  in  the  'baccy-fipld 
behind  the  house,  and  nurse  was  out  in  the  big 
meadow  a  walkin  with  Miss  Evelyn  when  I 
heard  a  cry  as  if  all  the  devils  had  broke  loose  ; 
in  a  moment,  six  or  eight  painted  Ingians  with 
rifles  and  tomahawks  dashed  out  of  the  laurel 
thickut,  and  murdered  poor  Jem  and  Eliab  be- 
fore they  could  get  at  their  rifles  which  stood 
by  the  worm  lience  ;*  two  of  them  then  went  af- 
ter the  nurse  and  child  in  the  meadow,  while 
the  rest  broke  into  the  house,  which  they  ran- 
sacked and  set  'o  fire !" 
"  But  my  child  1"  dried  the  agonize*!  father. 
"  I  fear  it's  gone  too,"  said  the  messenger  of 
this  dreadful  news.  "  I  saw  one  devil  kill  and 
scalp  the  nurse,  and  t'other," — here  he  paused, 
awe-struck  by  tlif  speechless  agony  of  poor 
Ethelston,  who  stood  with  clasped  hands  and 
bloodless  lips,  unable  to  ask  for  the  few  more 
words  which  were  to  complete  his  despair. 

"  Speak  on,  man,  let  us  know  the  worst ;" 
said  the  Colonel,  at  the  same  time  supporting 
the  trembling  form  of  his  unhappy  friend. 

"  I  seed  the  tomahawk  raised  over  the  sweet 
child,  and  I  tried  to  rush  out  o'  my  hidin'  place 
to  save  it,  when  the  flames  and  the  smoke 
broke  out,  and  I  tumbled  into  the  big  ditch  be- 
low the  garden,  over  head  in  water;  by  the 
time  I  gut  out  and  ??HcI.3d  the  place,  the  red 
devils  were  all  gone,  aua  the  house,  and  straw, 
and  barns  all  in  a  blaze !" 

Poor  Ethelston  had  only  heard  the  first  few 
words— they  were  enough— his  head  sunk  upon 
his  breast,  his  whole  frame  shuddered  convul- 
sively ;  and  a  rapid  succession  of  inarticulate 
sounds  came  from  his  lips,  among  which  no- 
thing could  be  distinguished  beyond  "child," 
"  tomahawk,"  "  Evelyn." 

It  is  needless  to  relate  in  detail  all  that  fol- 
lowed this  painful  scene ;  the  bodies  of  the  un- 
fortunate labourers  and  of  the  nurse  were  found ; 

*  It  may  be  necessary  to  inform  some  of  our  English 
readers,  that  a  worm  Tence  is  a  conrse,  zigzag  railing,  com- 
luon  In  the  new  wttlements  of  America,  where  timber  la 
plentlAil. 


all  had  been  scalped  ;  that  of  the  child  was  not 
found;  and  though  Colonel  Brandon  himself 
led  a  band  of  the  most  experienced  hunters  in ' 
pursuit,  the  trail  of  the  savaites  could  not  ba 
followed ;  with  their  usual  wily  foresight  ihey 
had  struck  off  through  the  forest  in  dilferent 
directions,  and  succeeded  in  haflling  all  attetiipta 
ut  discovering  either  their  route  or  tlicir  tribe  ; 
messengers  were  sent  to  the  trading  posts  at 
Kaskaakiu,  Vincennes,  and  oven  to  (jenevieve, 
and  81.  Louis,  and  all  returned  dispirited  by  a 
laborious  and  fruitlrss  search. 

Mr.  Ethelston  never  recovered  this  calami- 
tous blow  ;  several  fits  of  paralysis,  following 
each  other  in  rapid  succession,  carried  him  oti' 
within  a  few  months.  By  his  will  he  appointed 
a  liberal  annuity  to  Aunt  Mary,  and  left  the  re- 
mainder of  his  property  to  liia  bod  Edward,  but 
entirely  under  the  control  and  guardianship  of 
ColouL'l  Brandon. 

The  latter  had  prevailed  upon  Aunt  Mary  and 
her  young  nephew  to  become  inmates  of  hia 
house ;  where,  after  the  soothing  effect  of  time 
had  softened  the  bitternes.s  of  their  grief,  they 
found  the  comforts,  the  occiipation.s,  the  en- 
dearments, the  social  blessings  embodied  in  tho 
word  "  homo."  Edward  bttcaine  more  fondly 
attached  than  ever  to  his  younf^er  companion, 
Reginald  ;  and  Aunt  Mary,  besides  aiding  Mrs. 
Brandon  in  the  education  of  her  dnughtcr,  found 
time  to  knit,  to  hem,  to  cook,  to  draw,  to  iihint 
vegetables,  to  rear  flowers,  to  read,  to  givo 
medicine  to  any  sick  in  the  neighbourhood,  and 
to  comfort  all  who,  like  herself,  had  siitlured 
under  the  chastising  hand  of  Providence. 

Such  were  the  circumstances  wliich  (eleven 
years  before  the  commencement  of  this  narra- 
tive) had  led  to  the  aflfectionate  and  paternal 
interest  which  the  Colonel  felt  for  the  son  of 
his  friend,  and  which  was  increased  by  the  high 
and  estimable  qualities  gradually  developed  in 
Edward's  character.  Before  proceeding  further 
in  our  tale,  it  is  necessary  to  give  tho  reader 
some  insight  into  the  early  history  of  Colonel 
Brandon  himself,  and  into  those  occurences  in 
the  life  of  his  son  Reginald,  which  throw  light 
upon  the  events  hereafter  to  be  related. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ContalnlDg  an  account  of  the  morrlage  of  Ctdonel  Bran 
don  and  its  conswjucnces. 

Gborob  Brandon  was  the  only  son  of  9 
younger  brother,  a  scion  of  an  ancient  and  dis- 
tinguished family :  they  iiad  been,  fur  the  most 
part,  staunch  Jacobites,  and  George's  father 
lost  the  greater  part  of  his  property  in  a  fruitless 
endeavour  to  support  the  ill-timed  and  ill-con- 
ducted expedition  of  Charles  Edward,  in  1745. 

Aller  this  he  retired  to  the  Continent  and 
died,  leaving  to  his  son  little  else  besides  his 
sword,  a  few  hundred  crowns,  and  an  untar- 
nished name.  The  young  man  returned  to 
England ;  and,  being  agreeable,  accomplished, 
and  strikingly  handsome,  was  kindly  received 
by  some  of  his  relations  and  their  friends. 

During  one  of  the  visits  that  he  paid  at  tha 
house  of  a  neighbour  in  the  country,  he  fell 
desperately  in  love  with  Lucy  Shirley,  the 
daughter  of  the  richest  squire  in  the  country,  a 
determined  Whig,  and  one  who  hated  a  Jaco- 


THE   PRAIRIEBIRD. 


!)il«  woTin  thnn  n  Fronrhman.  An  (iforijn  | 
llrunilon'H  piiNHioii  wan  ri'tiiriioii  wiih  <>i|iiiil  ur- , 
(lour,  anil  tliu  ohjeot  of  il  wsin  yininK  ami  intx- 1 
|M!rii'iii'cii  an  liiiiiiuir,  nil  th«!  olixtacltm  o|>(i(iiii'(l  i 
to  tlii'ir  uniuii  only  kurvxd  ti>  aild  I'lii'l  tit  tlie| 
llauiti  ;  and,  afuir  rc|iitatril  but  vain  <'ndravoura| 
on  lliu  part  iil  Lucy  Sliirliiy  tii  ro<!iinodu  liuri 
falliur,  or  lirr  only  lirothcr,  to  tliB  inaicli,  n\w , 
i'|o|K.'d  with  Ikt  yoiinK  loviir :  and,  hy  a  rapid  | 
CMcapo  into  Ncolland,  wlif>ro  tli*^  were  iininc- 
diiitely  married,  tlusy  rundfrud  abortive  all  at- 
tempt  at  piifHiiit. 

It  wan  not  long  before  the  young  couple  bc- 
yan  to  feel  Homo  of  the  painful  consequunuea  of 
thnir  imprudence.  I'he  old  aqitiro  was  not  to 
he  appeased ;  he  would  neither  see  his  daugh- 
ter, nor  would  he  open  one  of  the  many  letters 
Avliich  she  wrote  to  entreat  his  forgiveness ; 
hui,  although  incensed,  he  was  a  proud  man 
and  sciiiiniloualy  juKt  in  all  his  dealings  :  Lucy 
had  been  left  X  10,000  by  her  grand-mother,  but 
it  was  not  due  to  her  until  she  attained  her 
twenty-tirst  year,  or  married  wtlh  her  father'i 
conttnt.  The  squire  waved  both  these  condi- 
tions; ho  knew  that  his  daughter  had  fallen 
from  a  brilliant  sphere  to  one  comparatively 
humble.  Even  in  the  midst  of  his  wrath  he 
did  not  wish  her  to  starve,  and  accordingly  in- 
structed his  lawyer  to  write  to  Mrs.  Brandon, 
and  to  inform  her  that  he  had  orders  to  pay  her 
X600  a-ycar,  until  she  thought  fit  to  demand  the 
payment  of  the  principal. 

(iciiige  and  his  wife  returned,  after  a  brief 
absence,  to  England,  and  made  frequent  eflurts 
to  overcome  by  entreaty  and  submission  the 
old  squire's  obduracy;  but  it  was  all  in  vain  ;• 
neither  were  they  more  successful  in  propitia- 
ting the  young  sciuire,  an  eccentric  youth,  who 
lived  among  dogs  and  horses,  and  who  had  im- 
bibed from  his  father  a  hereditary  taste  for  old 
port,  and  an  antipathy  to  Jacobites.  His  reply 
tu  a  letter  which  Ueorge  wrote,  entreating  his 
good  offices  in  effecting  a  reconciliation  between 
Lucy  and  her  lather,  will  serve  better  than  an 
elaborate  description  to  illustrate  his  character ; 
it  ran  as  follows : — 

Sir, 
When  my  sister  married  a  Jacobite,  against 
father's  consent,  she  carried  her  eggs  to  a  fool's 
market,  and  she  must  make  the  best  of  her  own 
bargain.  .  Father  isn't  such  a  flat  as  to  be  gul- 
led with  your  fine  words  now;  and  tho'  they 
say  I'm  not  over  forWrd  in  my  sohoolin',  you 
must  put  some  better  bait  on  your  trap  before 
yoa  catch 

Marmautikb  Shirley,  Jun. 

It  may  well  be  imagined,  that  after  the  re- 
ceipt of  this  epistle  George  Brandon  did  not 
seek  tu  renew  bis  intercourse  with  Lucy's  bro- 
ther ;  but  as  she  had  now  presented  him  with 
a  little  boy,  he  began  to  meditate  seriously  on 
the  means  which  he  should  adopt  to  better  his 
fortunes. 

One  of  his  most  intimate  and  esteemed 
friends,  Digby  Elhelslun,  being  like  himself, 
a  portionless  member  of  an  ancient  family,  had 
gone  out  early  in  life  to  America,  and  had,  by 
dint  of  persevering  industry,  gained  a  respect- 
able competence ;  while  in  the  southern  colo- 
nies he  had  married  the  daughter  of  an  old 
French  planter,  who  had  left  the  marquisate  to 


which  ho  was  entitled  In  his  own  country,  in 
order  tu  live  in  peace  and  quiet  among  the 
HiiU.ir  canes  and  cotton  fields  uf  Louisiana; 
Eihi'lstun  had  received  with  his  wife  a  consid- 
i^rulilo  accession  of  fortune,  and  they  were  on 
the  eve  of  returning  across  tho  Atlantic,  her 
husband  having  settled  all  the  airairs  which  had 
brought  him  to  lingland. 

Ilia  representations  of  tho  Now  World  made 
n  strong  impression  on  the  sanguine  mind  of 
(ieorge  Brandon,  and  he  proposed  to  his  wife 
to  emigrate  with  their  little  one  to  America ; 
ptx)r  Lucy,  cut  off  from  her  own  family  and  de- 
voted tu  her  husband,  made  no  difficulty  what- 
ever, and  it  was  soon  settled  that  they  ■hould 
accompany  the  fliholstons. 

Ueorge  now  called  upon  Mr  .Shirley's  aolioi- 
tor,  a  dry,  matter-of-fact,  parcliinent  man,  to  in- 
form him  of  their  intention,  and  of  their  wish 
that  the  principal  of  Lucy's  fortune  might  be 
paid  up.  The  lawyer  took  down  a  dusty  box 
of  black  tin,  wheretm  was  engraved  "  Marroa- 
duke  Shirley,  Esq.,  Shirley  Ilall,  No.  7,"  and 
after  carefully  perusing  a  paper  of  instructions, 
ho  said,  "Mrs.  Brandon's  legacy  shall  be  paid 
up,  sir,  on  the  1st  nf  July  tu  any  party  whom 
she  may  empower  tt>  receive  it  on  her  behalf, 
and  to  give  a  legal  discharge  for  the  same." 

"  And  pray,  sir,"  said  Geurge,  hesitating,  "  as 
we  are  going  across  the  Atlantic,  perhaps  never 
to  return,  do  you  not  think  Mr.  Shirley  would 
see  his  daughter  once  before  she  sails,  to  give 
her  his  blessing  1 

Again  the  man  of  parchment  turned  his  sharp 
nose  towards  tho  paper,  and  having  scanned  its 
contents,  ho  said,  "  I  find  nothing,  sir,  in  these 
instructions  on  that  point ;  Good  morning,  Mr. 
Brandon — James,  shew  in  Sir  John  Waltham." 

George  walked  home  dispirited,  and  the  punc- 
tual solicitor  failed  not  to  inform  tho  squire  im- 
mediately of  the  young  couple's  intended  emi- 
gration and  the  demand  for  the  paying  up  uf  the 
sum  due  to  Lucy.  In  spite  of  his  long  cherish- 
ed prejudices  against  George  Brandon's  Jaco- 
bite family,  and  his  anger  at  ftie  elopement,  he 
was  somewhat  softened  by  time,  by  what  he 
heard  of  the  blameless  lifo  led  by  the  young 
man,  and  by  the  respectful  conduct  that  the  lat- 
ter had  evinced  towards  his  wife's  family ;  for 
it  had  happened  on  one  occasion  that  some  of 
his  young  companions  had  thought  lit  to  speak 
of  the  obstinacy  and  stinginess  of  the  old  squire ; 
this  language  George  had  instantly  and  indig- 
nantly checked,  saying,  "  My  conduct  in  marry- 
ing his  daughter  against  bis  consent,  was  un- 
justifiable ;  though  he  has  not  forgiven  her,  he 
has  behaved  justly  and  honourably  ;  any  word 
spoken  disrespectfully  of  my  wife's  father,  I 
shall  consider  a  personal  insult  to  myself." 

This  had  accidentally  reached  the  ears  of  tho 
old  squire,  and,  though  still  too  proud  and  too 
obstinate  to  agree  to  any  reconciliation,  he  said 
to  the  solicitor :  "  Perkins,  I  will  not  be  recon- 
ciled to  these  scapegraces,  I  will  have  no  inter- 
course with  them,  but  I  will  ste  Lucy  before  she 
goes ;  she  must  not  see  me  ; — arrange  it  as 
you  please  ;  desire  her  to  come  to  your  house 
to  sign  the  discharge  for  the  £10,000,  in  per- 
son ;  yon  can  put  me  in  a  cupboard,  in  the  next 
room,  where  you  will,*  a  glass  door  will  do ; — 
you  understand  1" 

"Yes,  sir.    Whenl" 


f 


THE  PRAIRIR-OIRD. 


country,  m 
aiuung  tlie 
Louiaiana ; 
(o  a  Ronatd- 
tty  wure  un 
tlantic,  her 
•  wliioh  bad 

tVorld  made 

iiio  mind  of 

to  hii  wife 

0  America ; 
nily  and  de- 
Iculiy  what- 
they  ahould 

rley'a  aoliei* 

1  man,  to  in< 
if  their  wiah 
ne  might  bo 
a  duBty  box 
Dd  "Marma- 
No.  7,"  and 
inatruntions, 
ihHll  be  paid 
party  whom 
n  hor  behalf, 
le  same." 
sitating,  "  an 
urhapa  never 
iliiriey  would 
sails,  to  give 

nod  his  sharp 
{  scanned  its 
sir,  in  these 
morning,  Mr. 
n  Waltbam." 
ind  the  punc- 
tie  squire  im- 
ntended  emi- 
ing  up  of  the 
long  cheriah- 
mdon's  Jaco- 
lupement,  he 

by  what  h« 
>y  the  young 

that  the  lat- 
I  family;  for 
that  some  of 
It  fit  to  speak 
le  old  squire ; 
ly  and  indig- 
net  in  niarry- 
lent,  was  un- 
;iven  her,  he 
any  word 
d's  father,  I 
myself." 
le  ears  of  the 
oud  and  too 
ition,  he  said 
tot  be  recon- 
ave  no  inter- 
cy  before  she 
irrange  it  as 
>  your  house 
),000,  in  per- 
1,  in  the  next 
)r  will  do ; — 


"  Oh,  the  sooner  the  better ;  whimevor  the 
papers  are  ready." 

'■  It  shall  bo  >lono,  sir."  And  thus  the  Inter- 
view closed. 

Meantime  Ocouo  made  one  flnal  cflbrt  'n\  a 
letter  which  he  aduresaod  to  the  SqulVc,  couch- 
«il  in  terms  at  once  manly  and  respectful ; 
owning  the  errors  that  hu  had  committcti,  hut 
hoping  that  forgiveness  might  precede  thia  long, 
this  iHMt  se|inration. 

This  letter  was  returned  to  him  unopened, 
and  in  order  to  conceal  from  Lucy  the  grief  and 
mortiflciuiiin  of  his  high  and  wounded  spirit,  he 
was  obliged  to  absent  himself  from  home  for 
many  hours,  and  when  he  did  return,  it  was 
with  a  clouded  brow. 

Certainly  the  fate  of  this  young  couple,  though 
not  altogether  prosperous,  wai  in  one  particular 
a  remarkablb  exception  to  the  usual  results  of 
a  runaway  match  ;  they  were  afTvctionateiy 
and  entirely  devoted  to  each  other ;  and  hucy, 
though  she  had  been  once,  and  only  oncn,  a  dis- 
obedient daughter,  was  the  most  loving  and 
obedient  of  wives. 

The  day  fixed  for  her  signature  arrived.  Mr. 
Perkins  had  made  all  his  arrangempnts  agree- 
ably to  his  ivcalthy  client's  instructions ;  and 
when,  accompanied  by  her  husband,  she  enter- 
ed the  solicitor's  study,  sho  was  little  conscious 
that  her  father  was  separated  from  her  only  by 
a  frail  door,  which  being  Icfl  ^ar,  he  could  see 
her,  and  hear  every  word  that  she  spoke. 

Mr.  Perkins,  placing  the  drafl  of  the  dis- 
charge into  George  Brandon's  hand,  together 
with  the  instrument  whereby  his  wife  was  put 
in  possession  of  the  XIU.OOO,  said  to  him, 
"  Would  it  not  be  better,  sir,  to  send  for  your 
solicitor  to  inspect  these  papers  on  behalf  of 
yourself  and  Mrs.  Brandon,  before  she  signs  the 
discharge  1" 

"  Allow  me  to  inquire,  sir,"  replied  George, 
"  whether  Mr.  Shirley  has  perused  these  pa- 
pers, and  haa  placed  them  here  for  his  daugh- 
ter's signature  1" 

"  Assuredly,  he  has,  sir,"  said  the  lawyer, 
"  and  I  have  too,  on  his  behalf;  you  do  not  im- 
agine, sir,  that  my  client  would  pay  the  capital 
sum  without  being  certain  that  the  discharge 
was  regular  and  sufficient  I" 

"  Then  I  am  satisfied,  sir,"  said  George,  with 
something  of  disdain  expressed  on  his  fine 
countenance.  "  Mr.  Shirley  is  a  man  of  hon- 
our, and  a  father ;  whatever  he  has  sent  for  his 
daughter's  signature  will  secure  her  interests  as 
efTectually  as  if  a  dozen  solicitors  had  inspect- 
ed it." 

At  the  <<anclusion  of  this  speech,  a  sort  of 
indistinct  Arm  proceeded  from  the  ensconced 
Squire,  to  cover  which  Mr.  Perkins  said,  "  But, 
sir,  it  is  not  usual  to  sign  papers  of  this  con- 
quence  without  examining  them." 

**  Lucy,  my  dear,"  said  George,  turning  with 
a  smile  of  affectionate  confidence  to  his  wife ; 
"to  oblige  Mr.  Perkins,  I  will  read  through 
these  two  papers  attentively ;  sit  down  for  a 
minute,  as  they  are  somewhat  long ;"  so  say- 
ing, he  applied  himself  at  once  to  his  task. 

Meantime,  Lucy,  painfully  agitated  and  ex- 
cited, made  several  attempts  to  address  Mr. 
Perkins;  but  her  voice  failed  her,  as  soon  as 
sho  turned  her  eyes  upon  that  gentleman's  rigid 
countenance ;  at  length  however,  by  a  desper- 


ate cfliirt,  she  succeeded  in  asking,  tremuloua- 
ly,  "Mr,  Perkins,  have  you  seen  my  father 
lately  ?" 

■'  Yos,  ma'am,"  said  the  lawyer,  nibbing  hia 
pen. 

•'  Oh !  tell  me  how  he  is  !— Haa  the  gout  )eA 
him  T — Can  he  ride  to  the  farm  as  ho  used  t" 

"  Ho  is  well,  madam,  very  well,  I  believe." 

"Shall  you  see  him  soon  again,  sir?" 

"  Yes,  madam.  I  must  show  him  these  papers 
when  signed." 

Oh  !  then,  tell  him,  that  his  daughter,  who 
iidver  disobeyed  him  but  once,  has  wept  bitter- 
ly for  her  fault ;  that  she  will  probably  never 
see  him  again,  in  this  world  ;  that  she  blessea 
him  in  her  daily  prayers.  Oh !  tell  him,  I 
charge  you  as  you  aru  a  man,  tell  him,  that  I 
could  cross  the  ocean  happy ;  that  I  could  bear 
years  of  sickness,  of  privation,  happy ;  that  I 
could  die  happy,  if  I  had  but  my  dear,  dear 
father's  blessing."  As  she  said  this,  the  young 
wife  had  unconsciously  fallen  upon  one  knee 
before  tho  man  of  law,  and  her  tearful  eyes 
were  bent  upon  his  countenance  in  earnest  sup- 
plication. 

Again  an  indistinct  noise,  as  of  a  suppressed 
groan  or  sob,  was  heard  from  behind  the  door, 
and  the  aolicitor  wiping  his  spectacles  and  turn- 
ing away  his  face  to  conceal  an  emotion  of 
which  III!  felt  rather  ashamed,  said :  "  I  will 
tell  him  all  you  desire,  madam ;  and  if  I  re- 
ceive his  iiistructions  to  make  any  communica- 
tion in  reply,  I  will  make  it  faithfully,  and  with- 
out loss  of  time." 

"  Thank  you,  thank  yoii  i  thousand  times," 
said  Lucy ;  and  resuming  ner  seat,  she  endea- 
voured to  recover  her  composure. 

George  had  by  this  time  run  his  eye  over  the 
papers,  and  although  he  had  overheard  his  wife's 
appeal  to  the  solicitor,  he  would  not  interrupt 
her,  nor  throw  any  obstacle  in  the  way  of  an 
object  which  he  knew  she  bad  so  much  at  heart. 
"  I  am  perfectly  satisfied,  sir,"  said  he ;  "  you 
have  nollffng  to  do  but  to  provide  the  witness- 
es, and  Mrs.  Brandon  will  affix  her  signature." 

Two  clerks  of  Mr.  Perkins'  were  according- 
ly summoned,  and  the  discharge  having  been 
signed  in  their  presence,  they  retired.  Mr.  Per- 
kins now  drew  another  paper  from  the  leaves 
of  a  book  on  his  table,  saying :  "  Mr.  Brandon, 
the  discharge  being  now  signed  and  attested,  I 
have  further  instructions  from  Mr.  Shirley  to 
inform  you  that  although  he  cannot  alter  his 
determination  of  refusing  to  see  his  daughter, 
or  holding  any  intercourse  with  yourself,  he  is 
desirous  that  you  should  not  in  America  find 
yourself  in  straitened  circumstances  ;  and  has 
accordingly  authorised  me  to  place  in  your 
hands  this  draft  upon  his  banker  for  ilitDOO." 

"  Mr.  Perkins,"  said  George,  in  a  tone  of  min- 
gled sadness  and  pride ;  "  in  the  payment  of  the 
£10,000,  my  wife's  fortune,  Mr.  Shirley,  though 
acting  honourably,  has  only  done  justice,  and 
has  dealt  as  he  would  have  dealt  with  strangers ; 
had  he  thought  proper  to  listen  to  my  wife's,  or 
to  my  own  repeated  entreaties  for  forgiveness 
and  reconciliation,  I  would  gratefully  have  re- 
ceived, from  him,  as  from  a  father,  any  favour 
that  he  wished  to  confer  on  us ;  but,  sir,  as  he 
refuses  to  see  me  under  his  roof,  or  even  to  give 
his  affectionate  and  repentant  child  a  parting 
blessing,  I  would  rather  work  for  my  daily 


1 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


bread  than  receive  at  his  hands  the  donation  of 
a  guinea." 

As  he  said  this,  he  tore  the  draft  and  scatter- 
ed its  shreds  on  the  table  before  the  astonished 
lawyer.  Poor  Lucy  was  still  in  tears,  yet  one 
look  assured  her  husband  that  aheftll  with  him. 
He  added  in  a  gentler  tone,  "  Mr.  Perkins  ac- 
cept my  acknowledgments  for  your  courtesy  ;" 
and  offering  his  arm  tu  Lucy,  turned  to  leave 
the  room. 


CHAPTER  in. 

Ck>otaii>iiig  loine  flirther  account  of  Colonel  and  Iln. 
Brandon,  and  of  the  Education  of  Uielr  aon  Reginald. 

While  the  scene  described  in  the  last  chap- 
ter was  passing  in  the  lawyer's  study,  stormy 
and  severe  was  the  struggle  going  on  in  the 
breast  of  the  listening  father ;  more  than  once 
he  had  been  on  the  point  of  rushing  into  the 
room  to  fold  his  child  in  his  arms ;  but  that  ob- 
stinate pride,  which  causes  in  life  so  many  bit- 
ter hours  of  regret,  prevented  him,  and  check- 
ed the  natural  impulse  of  affection  :  still,  as  she 
turned  with  her  husband  to  leave  the  room,  he 
unconsciously  opened  the  door,  on  the  lock  ot 
which  his  hand  rested,  as  he  endeavoured  to 
get  one  last  look  at  a  face  which  he  had  so 
long  loved  and  caressed.  The  door  being  thus 
partially  opened,  a  very  diminutive  and  favour- 
ite spaniel,  that  accompanied  him  wherever  he 
went,  escaped  through  the  aperture,  and,  recog- 
nizing Lucy,  barked  and  jumped  upon  her  in  an 
ecstacy  of  delight. 

"  Heavens !"  cried  she,  ♦'  it  is — it  must  be 
Fan  !"  At  another  time  she  would  have  fond- 
ly caressed  it,  but  one  only  thought  now  occu- 
pied her ;  trembling  on  her  husband's  arm,  she 
whispered,  "  George,  papa  tmist  be  here."  At 
that  moment  her  eye  caught  the  partially-open- 
ed door,  which  the  agitated  Squire^still  held, 
and,  breaking  from  her  husband,  she  flew  as  if 
by  instinct  into  the  adjacent  room,  and  fell  at 
her  father's  feet. 

Poor  Mr.  Perkins  was  now  grievously  dis- 
concerted, and  calling  out,  "This  way,  madam, 
this  way ;  that  is  not  the  right  door,"  was  about 
to  follow,  when  George  Brandon,  laying  his 
band  upon  the  lawyer's  arm,  said  impressively, 

"  Stay,  sir ;  that  room  is  sacred !"  and  led 
him  bftck  to  his  chair.  His  quick  mind  had 
seized  in  a  moment  the  correctness  of  Lucy's 
conjecture,  and  his  good  feeling  taught  him 
that  no  third  person,  not  even  he,  should  in- 
trude upon  the  father  and  the  child. 

The  old  squire  could  not  make  a  long  resist- 
ance when  the  gush  of  his  once-loved  Lucy's 
tears  trickled  upon  his  hand,  and  while  her 
half-choked  voice  sobbed  for  his  pardon  and  his 
blessing;  it  was  in  vain  that  he  summoned 
all  his  pride,  all  his  strength,  all  his  anger; 
Nature  would  assert  her  rights ;  and  in  another 
minute  his  child's  head  was  on  his  bosom,  and 
he  whispered  over  her,  "  I  forgive  you  Lucy ; 
may  God  bless  you,  as  I  do !" 

For  some  time  after  this  was  the  interview 
prolonged,  and  Lucy  seemed  to  be  pleading  for 
some  boon  which  she  could  not  obtain  ;  never- 
theless her  tears,  her  old  familiar  childish  ca- 
resses, had  regained  something  of  their  former 


dominion  over  the  choleric,  hut  warm-hearted 
Squire ;  and  in  a  voice  of  joy  that  thrilled  even 
through  the  quiet  man  of  law,  she  criedr 
"  George !  George,  come  in  I"  he  leaped  from 
his  seat,  and  in  a  moment  waf  at  the  feet  of  her 
father.  There  as  he  knelt  by  Lucy's  side,  the 
old  Squire  put  one  hand  upon  the  head  of  each, 
saying,  "  My  children,  all  that  yeu  have  ever 
done  to  offend  me  is  forgotten ;  continue  to  love' 
and  to  cherish  each  other,  and  may  God  pros- 
per you  with  every  blessing  I"  George  Bran^ 
don's  heart  was  full;  he  could  not  speak,  but 
straining  his  wife  affectionately  to  his  bosom, 
and  kissing  her  father's  hand,  he  withdrew  into 
a  corner  of  the  room,  and  for  some  minutes  re« 
mained  oppressed  by  emotions  too  strong  to  find 
relief  in  e::pres8ions. 

We  need  not  detail  at  len^h  the  consequen- 
ces of  this  happy  and  unexpected  reconciliation. 
The  eheck  was  re-written,  was  doubled,  and 
was  accepted.  George  still  persevered  in  his 
wish  to  accompany  his  friend  to  Virginia ;  where 
Ethelston  assured  him  that,  with  his  .£20,000 
prudently  managed,  he  might  easii]i^'4oi|uire  a 
sufficient  fortune  for  himself  and  hisjwtnily. 

How  mighty  is  the  powerofcircnniinpce:  and 
upon  what  small  pivots  does  Providince  some- 
times allow  the  wheels  of  human  fortune  to  be 
turned  !  Here,  in  the  instance  just  related,  the 
blessing  or  unappeasea  wrath  of  a  father,  the 
joy  or  despair  of  a  daughter,  the  peace  or  dis- 
cord of  a  family,  all,  all  were  dependent  upon 
the  bark  and  caress  of  a  spaniel !  For  that  stern 
old  man  had  made  his  determination,  and  would 
have  adhered  to  it,  if  Lucy  had  not  thus  been 
made  aware  of  his  presence,  and  by  her  grief 
aiding  the  voice  of  Nature,  overthrown  all  the 
defences  of  his  pride. 

It  happened  that  the  young  Squire  was  at 
this  time  in  Paris,  his  father  having  sent  him 
thither  to  see  the  world  and  learn  to  fence  ;  a 
letter  was,  however,  written  by  Lucy,  announ^ 
cing  to  him  the  happy  reconciliation,  and  on- 
treating  him  to  participate  in  their  common  hap- 
piness. 

The  arrangements  for  the  voyage  were  soon 
completed ;  the  cabin  of  a  large  vessel  being 
engaged  to  convey  the  whole  party  to  Norfolk 
in  Virginia.  The  Old  Squire  offered  no  oppo- 
sition, considering  that  George  Brandon  was  toa 
old  to  begin  a  proiession  in  England,  and  that 
he  might  employ  his  time  and  abilities  advanta- 
geously in  the  New  World. 

We  may  pass  over  many  of  the  ensuing  years, 
the  events  of  which  have  little  influence  on  our 
narrative,  merely  informing  the  reader  that  the 
investment  of  Brandon's  money,  made  by  the 
advice  of  Ethelston,  was  prosperous  in  the  ex- 
treme, lu  the  course  of  a  year  or  two,  Mrs. 
Brandon  presented  her  lord  with  a  little  girU 
who  was  named  after  herself.  In  the  following 
year,  Mrs.  Ethelston  had  also  a  daughter :  the 
third  confinemenv  was  nut  so  fortunate,  and. 
she  died  in  childbed,  leaving  to  Ethelston,  Ed- 
ward, then  about  nine,  and  little  £vel>..  a. 
twelvemonth  old. 

It  was  on  this  sad  occasion  that  he  persuaded 
his  sister  to  come  out  from  England  to  reside 
with  him,  and  take  care  of  his  motbcrlcss  chil- 
dren :  a  task  that  she  undertook  and  fulfilled 
with  the  love  and  devotion  of  the  most  affec- 
tionate mother. 


THE  PR/IIRIE-BIRD. 


In  eonrse  of  time  the  war  broke  out  which 
ended  in  the  independence  of  the  Colonies. 
During  its  commencenient,  Brandon  and  Ethel- 
ston  both  remained  firm  to  the  Crown  ;  but  as 
it  advanced,  they  became  gradually  convinced 
of  the  impolicy  and  injustice  of  the  claims  urged 
by  England  ;  Brandon  having  sought  an  inter- 
view with  Washington,  the  arguments,  and  the 
character,  of  that  great  man  decided  him ;  he 
joined  the  Independent  party,  obtained  a  com- 
mand, and  distinguished  himself  so  much  as  to 
obtain  the  esteem  and  regard  of  his  commander. 
As  soon  -^i  peace  was  established  he  had,  for 
reasons  before  stated,  determined  to  change  his 
residence,  and  persuaded  Ethelston  to  accom- 
pany him  with  bis  family. 

After  the  dreadful  domestic  calamity  men- 
tioned in  the  first  chapter,  and  the  untimely 
death  of  Ethelston,  Colonel  Brandon  sent  Ed- 
ward, the  son  of  his  deceased  friend,  to  a  dis- 
tant relative  in  Hamburgh,  desiring  that  every 
care  might  be  given  to  give  him  a  complete 
mercantile  and  liberal  education,  including  two' 
years'  btudy  at  a  German  university. 

Meanwhile  the  old  Squire  Brandon  was  dead, 
hut  his  son  and  successor  had  written,  after  his 
own  strange  fashion,  a  letter  to  his  sister,  beg- 
ging her  to  send  over  her  boy  to  England,  and  he 
would  "  make  a  man  of  him."  After  duly  weigh- 
ing this  proposal,  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Brandon  de- 
termined to  avail  themselves  of  it ;  and  Reginald 
was  accordingly  sent  over  to  his  uncle,  who  had 
promised  to  enter  him  immediately  at  Oxford. 

When  Reginald  arrived,  Marmaduke  Shirley 
turned  him  round  half  a  dozen  times,  felt  his 
arms,  punched  his  ribs,  looked  at  his  ruddy 
cheeks  and  brown  hair,  that  had  never  known 
a  barber,  and  exclaimed  to  a  brother  sportsman 
who  was  standing  by,  "  D — d  if  he  ain't  one  of 
the  right  5ort!  eh,  Harry  V  But  if  the  uncle 
was  pleased  with  the  lad's  appearance,  much 
more  delighted  was  he  with  his  accomplish- 
ments :  for  he  could  walk  dmen  any  keeper  on 
the  estate,  he  sat  on  a  horse  like  a  young  cen- 
taur, and  his  accuracy  with  a  rifle  perfectly 
confounded  the  Squire.  "  If  this  isn't  a  chip 
of  the  old  block,  my  name  isn't  Marmaduke 
Shirley,"  said  he ;  and  for  a  moment  a  shade 
crossed  his  usually  careless  brow,  as  he  remem- 
bered that  he  had  wooed,  and  married,  and 
been  left  a  childless  widower. 

But  although  at  Shirley  Hall  Reginald  fol- 
lowed the  a-iii>ils  of  the  field  with  the  ardour 
natural  to  his  age  and  character,  he  rather  an- 
noyed the  Squire  by  his  obstinate  and  perse- 
vering attention  to  his  studies  at  College ;  he 
remembered  that  walking  and  shooting  were 
accomplishments  which  he  might  have  acquired 
and  perfected  in  the  woods  of  Virginia ;  but  he 
felt  it  due  to  his  parents,  and  to  the  confidence 
which  they  had  reposed  in  his  discretion,  to 
carry  back  with  him  some  more  useful  knowl- 
edge and  learning. 

With  this  dutiful  motive,  he  commenced  his 
studies ;  and  as  he  advanced  in  them,  his  natu- 
rally quick  intellect  seized  on  and  appreciated 
the  beauties  presented  to  it ;  authors,  in  whose 
writings  he  had  imagined  and  expected  little 
else  but  difficulties,  soon  became  easy  and  fa- 
miliar; and  what  he  had  imposed  upon  himself 
iirom  a  high  principle  as  a  task,  proved,  ere  long, 
a  source  of  abundant  pleasure. 


In  I  he  vacations  he  visited  his  good-humour- 
ed unole,  who  never  failed  to  rally  him  as  i 
"  Latin-monger"  and  a  book-worm  ;  but  Regi- 
nald bore  the  jokes  with  temper  not  less  merry 
than  his  uncle's;  and  whenever,  after  a  hard 
run,  he  had  "  pounded"  the  Sqo're  or  the  hunts- 
man, he  never  failed  to  retaliate  by  answering 
the  compliments  paid  him  on  his  riding  with 
some  such  jec  i  as  "  Pretty  well  for  a  book- worm, 
uncle."  It  soon  became  evident  to  all  the  ten- 
ants, servants,  and  indeed  to  the  whole  neigh- 
bourhood, that  Reginald  exercised  a  despotic 
influence  over  the  Squire,  who  respected  inter- 
nally those  literary  attainments  in  his  nephew 
which  he  affected  to  ridicule. 

When  Reginald  had  taken  his  degree,  which 
he  did  with  high  honour  and  credit,  he  felt  an 
ardent  desire  to  visit  his  friend  and  school-fel- 
low, Edward  Ethelston,  in  Germany  ;  he  was 
also  anxious  to  see  something  of  the  Continent, 
and  to  study  the  foreign,  languages ;  this  wish; 
he  expressed  without  circumlocution  to  tha 
Squire,  who  received  the  communication  with 
undisguised  disapprobation  :  "  What  the  devil 
can  the  boy  want  to  go  abroad  fori  not  satisfied 
with  wasting  two  or  three  years  poking  over 
Greek,  Latin,  Mathematics,  and  other  infernal 
'  atics'  and  ■  ologies,'  now  you  must  go  across 
the  Channel,  to  eat  sour-crout,  soup-maigre, 
and  frogs!  I  won't  hear  of  it,  sir;"  and  in 
order  to  keep  his  wrath  warm,  the  Squire  poked 
the  fire  violently. 

In  spite  of  this  determination  Reginald,  as- 
usual  carried  his  point,  and  in  a  few  weeks  was 
on  board  a  packet  bound  for  Hamburgh,  his 
purse  being  well  filled  by  the  Squire,  who  told 
him  to  see  all  that  could  be  seen,  and  "not  to 
let  any  of  those  Mounseers  top  him  at  any- 
thing." Reginald  was  also  provided  with  let- 
ters of  credit  to  a  much  larger  amount  than  he 
required ;  but  the  first  hint  which  he  gave  of  a 
wish  to  decline  a  portion  of  the  Squire's  gene- 
rosity raised  such  a  storm,  that  our  hero  was 
fain  to  submit. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ConUining  sundry  advenhires  of  Reginald  Brandon  and 
his  friend  Etiielston  on  the  ConUnent ;  also  some  Airther 

Sroceedings  at  Squire  Shirley's ;  and  the  return  of  Reg- 
lald  Brandon  lo  his  home.  In  this  chapter  the  sport- 
ing reader  will  find  an  example  of  an  unmade  rider  oa 
a  made  hunter. 

Rboinald  having  joined  his  attached  and 
faithful  friend  Ethelston  at  Hamburgh,  the 
young  men  agreed  to  travel  together ;  and  the 
intimacy  of  their  early  boyhood  ripened  into  a 
mature  friendship,  based  upon  a  mutual  esteem ; 
in  personal  advantages,  Reginald  was  greatly 
the  superior ;  for  although  unusually  tail  and 
strongly  built,  such  was  the  perfect  symmetry 
of  his  proportions,  that  his  height,  and  the  great 
muscular  strength  of  his  chest  and  limbs,  were 
carried  off  by  the  grace  with  which  he  moved, 
and  by  the  air  of  high-breeding  by  which  he  was 
distinguished ;  his  countenance  was  noble  and 
open  in  expression;  and  though  there  was  a 
fire  in  his  dark  eye  which  betokened  passions 
easily  aroused,  still  there  was  a  frankness  on 
the  brow,  and  a  smile  around  the  mouth  that 
told  of  a  nature  at  once  kindly,  fearless,  and 
without  suspicion. 


w 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


Ethelston,  who  was,  be  it  remembered,  three 
^ears  older  than  his  friend,  was  of  middle  stat- 
ure, but  active  and  well  proportioned  ;  his  hair 
and  eyebrows  were  of  the  jettest  black,  and  his 
countenance  thoughtful  and  grave;  but  there 
was  about  the  full  and  firm  lip  an  expression  of 
determination  not  to  be  mistaken;  habits  of 
study  and  reflection  had  already  written  their 
trace  upon  his  high  and  intellectual  brow ;  so 
that  one  who  saw  him  for  the  first  time  might 
imagine  him  only  a  severe  student ;  but  ere  he 
}iad  seen  him  an  hour  in  society,  he  would  pro- 
.nounce  him  a  man  of  practical  and  command- 
ing oharacter.  The  shade  of  melancholy,  which 
"Was  almost  habitual  on  his  countenance,  dated 
from  the  death  of  his  father,  brought  prema- 
turely by  sorrow  to  his  grave,  and  from  the  loss 
of  his  little  sister,  to  whom  he  had  been  tender- 
.y  attached.  The  two  friends  loved  each  other 
'With  the  affection  of  brothers  ;  and,  aAer  the 
reparation  of  the  last  few  years,  each  found  in 
the  other  newly  developed  qualities  to  esteem. 

The  state  of  Europe  during  the  autumn  of 
1795  not  being  favourable  for  distant  excur- 
sions, Ethelston  contented  himself  with  show- 
ing his  friend  all  objects  worthy  of  bis  attention 
in  the  north  of  Germany,  and  at  the  same  time 
assisted  him  in  attaining  its  rich,  though  diffi- 
cult language ;  by  associating  mucli  during  the 
winter,  with  the  students  from  the  Universities, 
Reginald  caught  some  of  their  enthusiasm  re- 
specting the  defence  of  their  country  from  the 
arms  of  the.  French  republic ;  he  learned  that  a 
large  number  of  Ethelston's  acquaintances  at 
Hamburgh  had  resolved  in  the  spring  to  join  a 
«orps  of  volunteers  from  the  Hanscatic  towns, 
destined  to  fight  under  the  banner  of  the  Arch- 
duke Charles ;  to  their  own  surprise,  our  two 
friends  were  carried  away  by  the  stream,  and 
ibnnd  themselves  enrolled  in  a  small,  but  active 
and  gallant  band  of  sharp-shooters,  ordered  to 
act  on  the  flank  of  a  large  body  of  Austrian  in- 
iiintry.  More  than  once  the  impetuous  courage 
«f  Reginald  had  nearly  cost  him  his  life ;  and 
in  the  action  at  Amberg,  where  the  Archduke 
defeated  General  Bernulotte,  he  received  two 
"Wounds,  such  as  would  have  disabled  a  man  of 
less  hardy  constitution.  It  was  in  vain  that 
lEthelston,  whose  bravery  was  tempered  by  un- 
ruffled coolness,  urged  his  friend  to  expose  him- 
self less  wantonly  ;  Reginald  always  promised 
it,  but  in  the  excitement  of  the  action  always 
forgot  the  promise. 

After  he  had  recovered  from  his  wounds,  his 
commanding  officer,  who  had  noticed  his  fear- 
less daring,  a  quality  so  valuable  in  the  skir- 
mishing duty,  to  which  his  corps  were  appoint- 
ed, sent  for  him,  and  offered  to  promote  him. 
"  Sir,"  said  Reginald,  modestly,  "  I  thank  you 
heartily,  but  I  must  decline  the  honour  you  pro- 
pose to  me.  I  am  too  inexperienced  to  lead 
others;  my  friend  and  comrade,  Ethelston,  is 
three  years  my  senior ;  in  action  be  is  always 
by  my  side,  sometimes  before  me ;  he  has  more 
skill  or  riper  judgment ;  any  promotion  that 
should  prefer  me  before  him,  would  be  most 
painful  to  me."  He  bowed  and  withdrew.  On 
the  following  day,  the  same  officer,  who  had 
mentioned  Reginald's  conduct  to  the  Archduke, 
presented  each  of  the  friends,  from  him,  with  a 
gold  medal  of  the  Emperor ;  a  distinction  the 
more  gratifying  to  Reginald,  from  his  knowledge 


that  he  had  been  secretly  the  means  of  bringing 
his  friend's  merit  into  the  notice  of  his  com- 
mander. 

I'hey  served  through  the  remainder  of  that 
campaign,  when  the  aritis  of  the  contending 
parties  met  with  alternate  success ;  towards  its 
close,  the  Archduke  having  skilfully  effected 
his  object  of  uniting  his  forces  to  the  corps 
d'arm^e  under  General  Wartenleben,  compelled 
the  French  to  evacuate  Franconia,  and  to  re- 
tire towards  Switzerland. 

This  retreat  w?s  conducted  with  much  skill 
by  General  Moreau;  several  tiroes  did  the 
French  rear-guard  make  an  obstinate  stand 
against  the  pursuers,  among  whom  Reginald 
and  his  comrades  were  always  the  foremost. 
On  one  occasion,  the  French  army  occupied 
a  position  so  strong  that  they  were  not  driven 
from  it  without  heavy  loss  on  both  sides ;  and 
even  aAer  the  force  of  numbers  had  compelled 
the  main  body  to  retire,  there  remained  a  gal- 
lant band  who  seemed  resolved  to  conquer  or 
die  upon  the  field;  in  vain  did  the  Austrian 
leaders,  in  admiration  of  their  devoted  valour, 
call  to  them  to  surrender ;  without  yielding  an 
inch  of  ground,  they  fell  fighting  where  they 
stood.  Reginald  made  the  most  desperate  ef- 
forts to  save  their  young  commander,  whose 
chivalrous  appearance  and  brilliantly  decorated 
uniform  made  him  remarkable  from  a  great 
distance ;  several  times  did  he  strike  aside  a 
barrel  pointed  at  the  French  officer ;  but  it  was 
too  late;  and  when  at  length,  covered  with 
dust,  and  sweat,  and  blood,  he  reached  tbo 
spot,  he  found  the  young  hero  whom  he  had 
striven  to  save,  stretched  on  the  ground  by 
several  mortal  wounds  in  his  breast ;  he  saw, 
however,  Reginald's  kind  intention,  smiled 
gratefully  upon  him,  waved  his  sword  over  his 
head,  and  died. 

The  excitement  of  the  battle  was  over,  and 
leaning  on  his  sword,  Reginald  still  bent  over 
the  noble  form  and  marble  features  of  the 
young  warrior  at  his  feet,  and  be  sighed  deefdy 
when  he  thought  how  suddenly  had  this  flower 
of  manly  beauty  been  cut  down.  "  Perhaps," 
said  he,  half  aloud,  "  some  now  childless  moth- 
er yet  waits  for  this  last  prop  of  her  age  and 
name ;  or  some  betrothed  lingers  at  her  win- 
dow, and  wonders  why  he  so  long  delays." 

Ethelston  was  at  his  side,  his  eyes  also  bent 
sadly  upon  the  same  object ;  the  young  friends 
interchanged  a  warm  and  silent  grasp  of  th« 
hand,  each  feeling  that  he  read  the  heart  of 
the  other !  At  this  moment,  a  groan  escaped 
from  a  wounded  min,  who  was  half  buried  un- 
der the  bleeding  bodies  of  his  comrades ;  with 
some  difficulty  Reginald  dragged  him  out  from 
below  them,  and  the  poor  fellow  thanked  him 
for  his  humanity ;  he  had  only  received  a  slight 
wound  on  the  head  from  a  spent  ball,  which 
had  stunned  him  for  the  time ;  but  he  soon  re- 
covered from  its  effects,  and  looking  around,  he 
saw  the  body  of  the  young  commander  stretched 
on  the  plain. 

"  Ah,  mm  pauvrc  General  l"  he  exclaimed  . 
and  on  farther  inquiry,  Reginald  learned  that  it 
was  indeed  the  gallant,  the  admired,  the  belov- 
ed General  Marceau,  whose  brilliant  career  was 
thus  untimely  closed. 

"  1  will  go,"  whispered  Ethelston,  "  and  bear 
this  tidings  to  the  Archduke  ;  meantime,  Regi- 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


11 


of  bringing 
r  his  com- 

der  of  that 
contending 
towards  its 
lly  effected 
I  the  corps 
,  compelled 
and  to  re- 
much  skill 
;s  did  the 
nate  stand 
n  Reginald 
e  foremost. 
ly  occupied 
not  driven 
sides;  and 
1  compelled 
ained  a  gal- 
conquer  or 
le  Austrian 
>ted  valour, 
yielding  an 
where  they 
esperate  ef- 
)der,  whose 
y  decorated 
om  a  great 
ike  aside  a 
;  but  it  was 
ivered  with 
cached  the 
lom  he  had 
ground  by 
9t ;  he  saw, 
Ion,  smiled 
krdover  bis 

[a  over,  and 
1  bent  over 
res  of  tbe 
ghed  deeply 

this  flower 
"  Perhaps," 
IdlesB  moth- 
ler  age  and 
at  her  win- 
ilelays." 
es  also  bent 
)ung  friends 
rasp  of  thfl 
le  heart  of 
lan  escaped 

buried  un- 
rades;  with 
m  out  from 
hanked  him 
ved  a  slight 

ball,  which 

he  soon  re- 
r  around,  he 
er  stretched 

exclaimed : 
irned  that  it 
I,  the  belov- 
:  career  was 

'  and  bear 
ttime,  Regi- 


1 


11^ 

I 


nald,  guard  the  honoured  remains  from  the 
camp-spoiler  and  the  plunderer."  So  saying  he 
withdrew ;  and  Reginald,  stooping  over  tbe 
prostrate  form  before  him,  stretched  it  decently, 
closed  the  eyes,  and  throwing  a  mantle  over 
the  splendid  uniform,  sat  down  to  indulge  in  the 
serious     oditations  inspired  by  tbe  scene. 

''fc  soon  aroused  from  them  by  the  poor 
feliovv  om  he  had  dragged  forth,  who  said  to 
him,  '■  ^u ,  I  yield  myself  your  prisoner." 

"  And  who  are  you,  my  fiiend  1" 

"  I  was  courier,  valet,  and  cook  to  M.  de  Va- 
reuil,  aide-de-camp  to  the  General  Marceau ; 
both  lie  dead  together  before  you." 

"  And  what  is  your  name,  my  good  fellow  V 

"  Gustave  Adolphe  Montmorenci  Perrot." 

"  A  fair  string  of  names,  indeed,"  said  Regi- 
nald, smiling.  "  But  pray.  Monsieur  Perrot, 
how  came  you  here  1  are  you  a  soldier  as  well 
as  a  courier  V 

"  Monsieur  does  me  too  much  honour,"  said 
the  other,  shrugging  his  shoulders.  "  I  only 
came  from  the  baggage-train  with  a  message  to 
my  master,  and  your  avant-garde  peppered  us 
so  hotly  that  I  could  not  get  back  again.  I  am 
not  fond  of  fighting ;  but  somehow,  when  I  saw 
poor  Monsieur  de  Vareuil  in  so  sad  a  plight,  I 
did  not  wish  to  leave  him." 

Reginald  looked  at  the  speaker,  and  thought 
be  had  never  seen  in  one  face  such  a  compound 
of  slyness  and  honesty,  drollery  and  sadness. 
He  did  not,  however,  reply,  and  relapsed  into 
his  meditation.  Before  five  minutes  had  passed, 
Monsieur  Perrot,  as  if  struck  by  a  sudden  idea, 
fell  on  his  knees  before  Reginald,  and  said, 

"  Monsieur  has  saved  my  life — will  he  grant 
me  yet  one  favour  1" 

"  If  within  my  power,"  said  Reginald,  good- 
humouredly. 

"  Will  Monsieur  take  me  into  bis  service  1  I 
have  travelled  over  all  Europe;  I  have  lived 
long  in  Paris,  London,  Vienna ;  I  may  be  of  use 
to  Monsieur ;  but  I  have  no  home  nqw." 

"  Nay,  but  Monsieur  Perrot,  I  want  no  serv- 
ant ;  I  am  only  a  volunteer  with  the  army." 

"  I  sc:  what  Monsieur  is,"  said  Perrot,  archly, 
'■  in  spite  of  the  dust  and  blood  with  which  he 
is  disfigured.  I  will  ask  no  salary ;  I  will  share 
your  black  bread,  if  you  are  poor,  and  will  live 
in  your  pantry  if  you  are  rich :  I  only  want  to 
serve  you." 

Monsieur  Perrot's  importunity  overruled  all 
the  objections  that  Reginald  could  raise ;  and 
he  at  last  consented  to  the  arrangement,  pro- 
vided the  former,  afler  due  reflection,  should 
adhere  to  his  wish. 

Ethelston  meanwhile  returned  with  the  party 
sent  by  the  Archduke  to  pay  the  last  token  of 
respect  to  the  remains  of  tbe  youthful  General. 
They  were  interred  with  all  the  military  hon- 
ours due  to  an  officer  whose  reputation  was, 
considering  his  years,  second  to  none  in  France, 
save  that  uf  Napoleon  himself 

After  the  ceremony,  Monsieur  Perrot,  now  on 
parole  not  to  bear  arms'against  Austria,  obtain- 
ed leave  to  return  lo  the  French  camp  for  a 
week,  in  order  to  "  arrange  his  affairs,"  at  the 
expiration  of  which  he  promised  to  rejoin  his 
new  master.  Ethelston  blamed  Reginald  for 
his  thoughtlessness  in  engaging  this  untried  at- 
tendant. The  latter,  however,  laughed  at  his 
friend,  and  said,  "  Though  he  is  such  a  droll- 


looking  creature,  I  think  there  is  good  in  him ; 
at  all  events,  rest  assured  I  will  not  trust  him 
far  without  trial." 

A  few  weeks  after  these  events.  General  Mo- 
reau  having  eflected  his  retreat  into  Switzer- 
land, an  armistice  was  concluded  on  the  Rhine 
between  the  contending  armies ;  and  Reginald 
could  no  longer  resist  the  imperative  commands 
of  his  Uncle  to  return  to  Shirley  Hall.  Mon- 
sieur Gustave  Adolphe  Montmorenci  Perrot  had 
joined  his  new  master,  with  a  valise  admirably 
stocked,  and  wearing  a  peruke  of  a  most  fash- 
ionable cut.  Ethelston  shrewdly  suspected  that 
these  had  formed  ^rt  of  poor  Monsieur  de  Va- 
reuil's  wardrobe,  and  his  dislike  of  Reginald's 
foppish  valet  was  not  thereby  diminished. 

On  the  route  to  Hamburgh  the  friends  passed 
through  many  places  where  the  luxuries,  and 
even  the  necessaries,  of  life  had  been  rendered 
scarce  by  the  late  campaign.  Here  Perrot  was 
in  his  element ;  fatigue  seemed  to  be  unknown 
to  him  ;  he  was  always  ready,  active,  useful  as 
a  courier,  and  unequalled  as  a  cook  and  acaterer ; 
so  that  Ethelston  was  compelled  to  confess  that 
if  he  only  proved  honest,  Reginald  had  indeed 
found  a  treasure. 

At  Hamburgh  tbe  two  friends  took  an  affec- 
tionate farewell,  promising  to  meet  each  other 
in  the  course  of  the  following  year  on  the  banks 
of  the  Ohio.  Reginald  returned  to  his  Uncle, 
who  stormed  dreadfully  when  he  learned  that 
he  had  brought  with  him  a  French  valet,  and 
remained  implacable  in  spite  of  the  circumstan- 
ces under  which  he  had  been  engaged ;  until 
one  morning,  when  a  footman  threw  down  the 
tray  on  which  he  was  carrying  up  the  Squire's 
breakfast  of  beeksteaks  and  stewed  kidneys, 
half  an  hour  before  "  the  meet"  at  his  best  cover- 
side.  What  could  now  be  done?  The  cook 
was  sulky,  and  sent  word  that  there  were  no 
more  steaks  or  kidneys  to  be  had.  The  Squire 
was  wrath  and  hungry.  Reginald  laughed,  and 
said,  "  Uncle,  send  for  Perrot." 

"  Perrot  be  d— d  I"  cried  the  Squire.  "  Does 
the  boy  think  I  want  some  pomatum  1  What 
else  could  that  coxcomb  give  me  V 

"  May  I  try  him,  Uncle  V  said  Reginald,  still 
laughing. 

"  You  may  try  him :  but  if  he  plays  any  of 
his  jackanapes  pranks,  I'll  tan  bis  hide  for  him, 
I  promise  you !" 

Reginald  having  rung  for  Perrot,  pointed  to 
the  remains  of  the  good  things  which  a  servant 
was  still  gathering  up,  and  said  to  him,^ "  Send 
up  breakfast  for  Mr.  Shirley  and  myself  in  one 
quarter  of  an  hour  from  this  minute :  you  are 
permitted  to  use  what  you  And  in  the  larder ; 
but  be  punctual." 

Perrot  bowed,  and,  without  speaking,  disap- 
peared. 

"  The  devil  take  the  fellow !  he  has  some 
sense,"  said  the  angry  Squire ;  "  he  can  receive 
an  order  without  talking;  one  of  my  hulking 
knaves  would  have  stood  there  five  minutes  out 
of  the  fif^en,  saying, '  Yes,  sir ;  I'll  see  what 
can  be  done  :*  or,  '  I'll  ask  Mr.  AUtripe,'  or 
some  other  infernal  stuff.  Come,  Reginald, 
look  at  your  watch.  Let  us  stroll  to  the  stable ; 
we'll  be  back  to  a  minute ;  and  if  that  fellow 
plays  any  of  his  French  tricks  upon  me,  I'll  give 
it  him."  Su  saying,  the  jolly  Squire  cut  the 
head  off  one  of  his  gardener's  favourite  plants, 


If 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD, 


with  his  hunting  whip,  and  led  the  way  to  the 
stable. 

We  may  now  return  to  Monsieur  Perrot,  and 
see  how  he  set  about  the  discharge  of  his  sud- 
den commission ;  but  it  may  be  necessary,  at 
the  same  time,  to  explain  one  or  two  particulars 
not  known  to  his  master,  or  to  the  Squire. 
Monsieur  Perrot  was  very  gallant,  and  his  ten- 
der  heart  had  been  smitten  by  the  charms  of 
Mary,  the  still-room  maid ;  it  so  happened  on 
this  very  morning  that  he  had  prepared  slily,  as 
a  surprise,  a  little  "  dejeuner  i  la  fourchette," 
with  which  he  intended  to  spften  Mary's  obdu- 
racy. We  will  not  inquire  hine  he  had  obtained 
the  mnshroom,  the  lemon,  and  the  sundry  other 
good  things  with  which  he  was  busily  engaged 
in  dressing  a  plump  hen-pheasant,  when  he  re- 
ceived the  above  unexpected  summons.  Mon- 
sieur Perrol's  vanity  was  greater  than  either  his 
gourmandise  or  his  love ;  and,  without  hesita- 
tion, he  determined  to  sacrifice  to  it  the  hen- 
pheasant  :  his  first  step  was  to  run  to  the  still- 
room  ;  and  having  stolen  a  kiss  from  Mary,  and 
received  a  box  on  the  ear  as  a  reward,  he  gave 
her  two  or  three  very  brief  but  important  hints 
for  the  coffee,  which  was  to  be  made  immedi- 
ately ;  he  then  turned  his  attention  to  the  hen- 
pheasant,  sliced  some  bacon,  cut  up  a  ham,  took 
possession  of  a  whole  basket  of  eggs,  and  flew 
about  the  kitchen  with  such  surprising  activity, 
and  calling  for  so  many  things  at  once,  that  Mr. 
Alltripe  lefl  his  dominion,  and  retired  to  his 
own  room  in  high  dudgeon. 

Meanwhile  the  Squire,  having  sauntered 
through  the  stables  with  Reginald,  and  enlight 
ened  him  with  various  comments  upon  the 
points  and  qualities  of  his  favourite  hunters, 
took  out  his  watch,  and  exclaimed,  "  the  time  is 
up,  my  boy ;  let  us  go  in  and  see  what  your  pre- 
cious Mounseer  has  got  for  us."  As  they  en 
tered  the  library.  Monsieur  opened  the  opposite 
door,  and  announced  breakfast  as  quietly  and 
composedly  as  if  no  unusual  demand  had  been 
made  upon  his  talents.  The  Squire  led  the  way 
into  the  breakfast-room,  and  was  scarcely  more 
surprised  than  was  Reginald  himself  at  the 
viands  that  regaled  his  eye  on  the  table.  In 
addition  to  the  brown  and  white  loaves,  the  rolls, 
and  other  varieties  of  oread,  there  smoked  on 
one  dish  the  delicate  salmi  of  pheasant,  on  an- 
other the  Squire's  favourite  dish  of  bacon,  with 
poached  eggs,  and  on  a  third,  a  most  tempting 
Onulelte  au  Jatnbon. 

Marmaduke  Shirley  opened  his  eyes  and 
mouth  wide  with  astonishment,  as  Monsieur 
Perrot  offered  him,  one  after  another,  these  del- 
icacies, inquiring,  with  undisturbed  gravity,  if 
"  Monsieur  desired  anything  else  1  as  there  were 
other  dishes  ready  below !" 

"  Other  dishes !  why,  man,  here's  a  breakfast 
for  a  Court  of  aldermen,"  said  the  Squire ;  and 
having  ascertained  that  the  things  were  as 
agreeable  to  the  taste  as  to  thn  eye,  and  that 
the  coffee  was  more  clear  and  high  flavoured 
than  he  had  ever  tasted  before,  he  seized  his 
nephew's  hand,  saying,  "  Reginald,  my  boy,  I 
give  in ;  your  Master  Perrot's  a  trump,  and  no 
man  shall  ever  speak  a  word  against  him  in 
this  house  !  A  rare  fellow !"  here  he  took  an- 
other turn  at  the  omelette ;  "  hang  me  if  he 
shan't  have  a  day's  sport;"  and  the  Squire, 
chuckling  at  the  idea  that  had  suddenly  crossed 


him,  rang  the  bell  violently:  "Tell  Repton," 
said  he  to  tlio  servant  who  entered,  "  to  saddle 
'  Rattling  Bess'  for  Monsieur  Perrot,  and  to 
take  her  to  the  cover-.side  with  the  other  hor- 
ses, at  ten." 

"  She  kick!  a  bit  at  starting,"  he  added  to 
Reginald;  "but  she's  as  safe  as  a  mill;  and 
though  she  rushes  now  and  then  at  the  fences, 
she  always  gets  through  or  over  'em." 

Now  it  was  poor  Perrot's  turn  to  be  aston- 
ished :  to  do  him  justice,  he  was  neither  a  bad 
horseman  (as  a  courier)  nor  a  coward ;  but  he 
had  never  been  out  with  hounds,  and  the  enu- 
meration of  "  Rattling  Bess's"  qualities  did  not 
sound  very  attractive  to  his  ear;  he  begaa 
gently  to  make  excuses,  and  to  decline  the  pro- 
posed favour :  he  had  not  the  "  proper  dress ;" 
"  he  had  much  to  do  for  Monsieur's  wardrobe  at 
home ;"  but  it  was  all  to  no  purpose,  the  Squire 
was  determined ;  Repton's  coat  and  breeches 
would  fit  him,  and  go  he  must. 

With  a  rueful  look  at  his  master,  Perrot  slunk 
off,  cursing  in  his  heart  the  salmi  and  the  ome- 
lette, which  had  procured  him  this  undesired 
favour ;  but  he  was  ordered  to  lose  no  time  in 
preparing  himself,  so  he  first  endeavoured  to 
get  into  .Mr.  Ripton's  clothes ;  that  proved  im- 
possible, as  Mr.  R.  Aad  been  a  racing  jockey, 
and  was  a  feather-weight,  with  legs  like  nut- 
crackers ;  having  no  time  fur  deliberation.  Mon- 
sieur Perrot  drew  from  his  valise  the  courier 
suit  which  he  had  worn  in  France ;  and,  to  the 
surprise  of  the  whole  party  assembled  at  the 
door,  he  appeared  clad  in  a  blue  coat,  turned  up 
with  yellow,  a  cornered  hat,  and  enormous 
boots,  half  a  foot  higher  than  his  knees :  he  was 
ordered  to  jump  up  behind  the  Squire's  car- 
riage, and  away  they  went  to  the  cover-side, 
amid  the  ill-suppressed  titter  of  the  grooms  and 
footmen,  and  the  loud  laughter  of  the  maids, 
whose  malicious  faces,  not  excepting  that  of 
Mary,  were^t  the  open  windows  below. 

When  they  reached  the  place  appointed  for 
"  the  meet,"  and  proceeded  to  mount  the  impa- 
tient horses  awaiting  them,  Perrot  eyed  with 
no  agreeable  anticipation  the  long  ears  of  Rat- 
tling Bess  laid  back,  and  the  restless  wag  of 
her  rat-tail,  and  he  ventured  one  more  attempt 
at  an  escape.  "Really,  sir,"  said  he  to  the 
Squire,  "  I  never  hunted,  and  I  don't  think  I 
can  manage  that  animal ;  she  looks  very  sav- 
age." 

"Never  mind  her,  Monsieur  Perrot,"  said 
the  Squire,  enjoymg  the  poor  valet's  ill-dissem 
bled  uneasiness.  "She  knows  her  business 
here  as  well  as  any  whipper-in  or  huu'^man  ; 
only  let  her  go  her  own  way,  and  you'll  never 
be  far  from  the  brush." 

"  Very  well,"  muttered  Perrot ;  "  I  hope  she 
knows  her  business  ;  I  know  mine,  and  that  is 
to  keep  on  her  back,  which  I'll  do  as  well  as  I 
can." 

The  eyes  of  the  whole  field  were  upon  this 
strangely  attired  figure,  and  as  soon  at  he  got 
into  the  saddle,  "  Rattling  Bess"  began  to  kick 
and  plunge  violently ;  we  have  said  that  he 
was  not  in  some  respects  a  bad  horseman,  and 
although  in  this,  her  first  prank,  he  lost  one  of 
his  stirrups,  and  his  cornered  hat  fell  off,  he 
contrived  to  keep  both  his  seat  and  his  temper ; 
while  the  hounds  were  drawing  the  cover,  one 
of  the  Squire's  grooms  restored  the  hat,  and 


•^ 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


13 


ell  Repton," 
1,  "  to  saddle 
rrot,  and  to 
e  other  hor- 

he  added  to 
a  mill;  and 
It  the  fences, 
m." 

to  be  aston- 
neither  a  bad 
vard ;  but  he 
and  the  enu- 
lities  did  not 
r;  he  begas 
:line  the  pro- 
oper  dress ;" 
wardrobe  at 
le,  the  Squire 
ind  breeches 

Perrot  slunk 
and  the  orae- 
lis  undesired 
)e  no  time  in 
leavoured  to 
it  proved  im- 
icing  jockey, 
9g3  like  nut- 
sration,  Mon- 
9  the  courier 
;  and,  to  the 
nbled  at  the 
Bt.  turned  up 
id  enormous 
lees:  he  was 
Squire's  car- 
B  cover-side, 
'  grooms  and 
f  the  maids, 
iting  that  of 
telow. 

ippointed  for 
nt  the  impa- 
it  eyed  with 
ears  of  Rat- 
less  wag  of 
nore  attempt 
he  to  the 
on't  think  I 
ks  very  sav- 


'errot,"  said 
s  ill-dissem 
ler  business 
huuuman  -, 
you'll  never 

"  I  hope  the 
and  that  is 
as  well  as  I 

re  upon  this 
m  a?  he  got 
legan  to  kick 
laid  that  he 
rseinan,  and 
i  lost  one  of 
fell  off,  he 
his  teniper ; 
5  cover,  one 
he  hat,  and 


■iW 


i 


at 


xave  him  a  string  whRrewith  to  fasten  it,  an 
operation  which  he  had  scarcely  concluded,  when 
the  inspiring  shouts  of  "  Tally-ho,"  "  Gone 
away,"  "  Forward,"  rang  on  his  ears.  "  Rat- 
tling Bess"  seemed  to  understand  the  sounds 
as  well  as  ever  alderman  knew  a  dinner-bell ; 
and  away  she  went  at  full  gallop,  convincing 
Munaieur  Perrot,  aller  an  ineffectual  struggle 
of  a  few  minutes  on  his  part,  that  both  the 
speed  anu  direction  of  her  course  were  iritters 
over  which  he  could  nut  exercise  the  smallest 
influence. 

On  they  flew,  over  meadow  and  stile,  ditch 
md  hedge,  nothing  seemed  to  check  Rattling 
Buss ;  and  while  all  the  field  were  in  astonished 
admiration  at  the  reckless  riding  of  the  strange 
courier,  that  worthy  was  catching  his  breath 
and  muttering  through  his  teeth  '-  Diable  d'ani- 
mal,  she  have  a  mouth  so  hard,  like  one  of  Mr. 
Alltripe's  bif-steak — she  know  h^r  business — 
and  a  sacre  business  it  is — holi  there !  mind 
yourself!"  he  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice, 
to  a  horseman  whose  horse  had  fallen  in  brush- 
ing through  a  thick  hedge,  and  was  struggling 
to  rise  un  the  other  side  just  as  Rattling  Bess 
followed  at  tremendous  speed  over  the  same 
place ;  lighting  upon  the  hind-quarters  of  her 
hapless  predecessor,  and  scraping  all  the  skin 
off  his  loins,  she  knocked  the  rider  head  over 
heels  into  the  ploughed  field  where  his  face 
was  buried  a  foot  deep  in  dirty  mould ;  by  a 
powerful  effort  she  kept  herself  fron^  falling, 
and  went  gallantly  over  the  field  ;  Perrot  still 
muttering,  as  he  tugged  at  the  insensible  mouth, 
"'  She  know  her  business,  she  kill  dat  poor  devil 
in  the  dirt,  she  kill  herself  and  me  too." 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  hounds,  having  over- 
run the  scent,  came  to  a  check,  and  were  gath- 
ered by  the  huntsman  into  a  green  lane,  whence 
they  were  about  to  "  try  back"  as  Rattling  Bess 
came  up  at  unabated  speed.  "  Hold  hard  there, 
hold  hard  !"  shouted  at  once  the  huntsman,  the 
Avhips,  and  the  few  sportsmen  who  were  up 
with  the  hounds.  "  Where  the  devil  are  you 
going,  man?"  "The  fox  is  viewed  back." 
'•Hallo!— you're  riding  into  the  middle  of  the 
pack."  These  and  similar  cries  scarcely  had 
lime  to  reach  the  ears  of  Perrot,  ere  "  Rattling 
Bess"  sprang  over  the  hedge  into  the  green 
lane,  and  coming  down  among  the  unfortunate 
dogs,  split  the  head  of  one,  broke  the  back  of 
another,  and  laming  two  or  three  more,  carried 
her  rider  over  the  opposite  fence,  who  still  pant- 
ing for  breath,  with  his  teeth  set,  muttered, 
"  She  know  her  business,  sacre  animal." 

After  crossing  two  more  fields,  she' cleared  a 
hedge  so  thici*  that  ho  could  not  see  what  was 
nn  the  other  side ;  but  he  heard  a  tremendous 
crash,  and  was  only  conscious  of  being  hurled 
with  violence  to  tl>e  ground ;  slowly  recovering 
his  senses,  he  saw  Rattling  Bess  lying  a  few 
yards  from  him,  bleeding  profusely ;  and  his 
own  ears  were  saluted  by  the  following  com- 
passionate inquiry  from  the  lips  of  a  gardener, 
■who  was  standing  over  him,  spade  in  hand : 
«D— n  your  stupid  outlandish  head,  what  be 
you  a  doin'  here  1" 

The  halfstunned  courier,  pointing  to  Rat- 
tling Bess,  replied :  "  She  know  her  business." 

The  gardener,  though  enraged  at  the  entire 
demolition  of  his  melon-bed,  and  of  sundry 
forced  vegetables  under  glass,  was  not  an  ill- 


tempered  fellow  iD  .he  main ;  and  seeing  that 
the  horse  was  ha.f  killed,  and  the  rider,  a 
foreigner,  much  bruised,  he  assisted  poor  Per- 
rot to  rise,  and  having  gathered  from  him,  that 
he  was  in  the  service  of  rich  Squire  Shirley, 
rendered  all  the  aid  in  his  power  to  him  and 
to  Rattling  Bess,  who  had  received  some  very 
severe  cuts  from  the  glass. 

When  the  events  of  the  day  came  to  be  talked 
over  at  the  Hall,  and  it  proved  that  it  was  the 
Squire  himself  whom  Perrot  had  so  unceremo- 
niously ridden  over, — that  the  huntsman  would 
expect  some  twenty  guineas  for  the  bounds, 
killed  or  maimed, — that  the  gardener  would 
probably  present  a  similar,  or  a  larger  account 
for  a  broken  melon-bed  and  shivered  glass, — 
and  that  Rattling  Bess  was  lame  for  the  season, 
the  Squire  did  nut  encourage  much  conversation 
on  the  day's  sport ;  the  only  remark  that  he 
was  heard  to  make,  being  "  What  a  fool  I  wa3 
to  put  a  frog-eating  Frenchman  on  an  English 
hunter !" 

Monsieur  Perrot  remained  in  his  room  for 
three  or  four  days,  not  caring  that  Mary  should 
see  his  visage  while  it  was  adorned  with  a  black 
eye  and  an  inHamed  nose. 

Soon  after  this  eventful  chase,  Reginald"  ob- 
tained his  Uncle's  leave  to  obey  his  father's 
wishes  by  visiting  Paris  for  a  few  months ;  his 
stay  there  was  shortened  by  a  letter  which  he 
received  from  his  sister  Lucy,  announcing  to 
him  his  mother's  illness,  on  the  receipt  of  which 
he  wrote  a  few  hurried  lines  of  explanation  to 
his  Uncle,  and  sailed  by  the  first  ship  for  Phila- 
delphia, accompanied  by  ttie  faithful  Perrot, 
and  by  a  large  rough  dog  of  the  breed  of  the  old 
Irish  wolfhound,  given  to  him  by  the  Squire. 

On  arriving,  he  found  his  mother  better  than 
he  had  expected ;  and,  as  he  kissed  off  the  tears 
of  joy  which  Lucy  shed  on  his  return,  he  whis- 
pered to  her  his  belief  that  she  had  a  little  ex- 
aggerated their  mother's  illness,  in  erder  to 
recall  him.  After  a  short  time,  Ethelston  also 
returned,  and  joined  the  happy  circle  assembled 
at  Colonel  Brandon's. 

It  was  now  the  spring  of  1797,  between  which 
time  and  that  mentioned  as  the  date  of  our 
opening  chapter,  a  period  of  nearly  two  years, 
nothing  worthy  of  peculiar  record  occurred ; 
Reginald  kept  up  a  faithful  correspondence 
with  his  kind  uncle,  whose  letters  showed  how 
deeply  he  felt  his  nephew's  absence.  Whether 
Monsieur  Perrot  interchanged  letters  with  Mary, 
or  consoled  himself  with  the  damsels  on  the 
banks  of  the  Ohio,  the  following  pages  may 
show.  His  master  made  several  hunting  ex- 
cursions, on  which  he  was  always  accompanied 
by  Baptiste,  a  sturdy  backwoodsman,  who  was 
more  deeply  attached  to  Reginald  than  to  any 
other  being  on  earth ;  and  Ethelston  had,  as 
we  have  before  explained,  undertaken  the  whole 
charge  of  his  guardian's  vessels,  with  one  of 
the  largest  of  which  he  was,  at  the  commence- 
ment of  our  tale,  absent  in  th«  West  India 
Islands.^     ,-.,,;  , 


rf  fW**-  -»7T=>'>f^l 


CHAPTER  V. 

An  adventure  In  the  woods.— Rexlnnld  Brandon  makes 
the  acquaintance  of  an  Indian  cliler. 

It  was  a  bright  morning  in  April ;  the  rnbia 
was  beginning  his  early  song,  the  wood-pecker 
darted  his  beak  against  the  rough  bark,  and  the 


14 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


tquirrel  hopped  merrily  rrom  bough  to  bough 
among  the  gigantic  trees  of  the  forest,  as  two 
hunters  followed  a  winding  path  which  led  to  a 
ferry  aoroas  the  Muskingum  river. 

One  was  a  powerful,  athletic  young  man,  with 
a  countenance  strikingly  handsome,  and  em- 
browned by  exercise  and  exposure  ;  his  dress 
was  a  hunting  shirt,  and  leggings  of  deer-skin ; 
his  curling  brown  locks  escaped  from  under  a 
cap  of  wolf-skin  ;  and  his  mocassins,  firmly  ee- 
oured  round  the  ankle,  were  made  from  the 
tough  hide  of  a  be^r ;  he  carried  In  his  hand  a 
short  rifle  of  heavy  calibre  and  an  ornamented 
couteau-de-chasse  bung  at  his  belt  His  com- 
panion lower  in  stature,  hut  broad,  sinewy,  and 
weather-beaten,  seemed  to  be  some  fifteen  or 
twenty  years  the  elder ;  his  dress  was  of  the 
same  material,  but  more  soiled  and  worn  ;  his 
rifle  was  longer  and  heavier ;  and  his  whole  ap- 
pearance that  of  a  man  to  whom  all  inclemen- 
cies of  season  were  indifferent,  all  the  dangers 
and  hardships  of  a  western  hunter's  life  famil- 
iar ;  but  the  most  remarkable  part  of  his  equip- 
ment was  an  enormous  axe,  the  handle  studded 
with  nails,  and  the  head  firmly  riveted  with  iron 
hoops. 

"  Well  Master  Reginald"  said  the  latter ; 
"  we  must  hope  to  find  old  Michael  and  his  fer- 
ry-boat at  the  Passage  des  Rochers,  for  the  riv- 
er  is  much  swollen,  and  we  might  not  easily 
swim  it  with  dry  powder." 

"What  reason  have  you  to  doubt  old  Mi- 
chael's being  found  at  his  post  1"  said  Reginald ; 
"  we  have  often  crossed  there,  and  have  seldom 
ibund  him  absent." 

"  True,  master ;  but  he  has  of  late  become 
very  lazy ;  and  he  prefers  sitting  by  his  fire, 
and  exchanging  a  bottle  of  fire-water  with  a 
strolling  Ingian  for  half  a  dozen  good  skins,  to 
tugging  a  great  flat-bottomed  boat  across  the 
Muskingum  during  the  March  floods." 

"  Baptiste,"  said  the  ooung  man,  "  it  grieves 
me  to  see  the  reckless  avidity  with  which  spir- 
its are  sought  by  the  Indians ;  and  the  violence, 
outrage,  and  misery  which  are  the  general  con- 
sequence of  their  dram-drinking." 

"  Why  you  see,  there  is  something  very  good 
in  a  cup  of  West  Ingy  rum ;"  here  Baptiste's 
hard  features  were  twisted  into  a  grin  irresis- 
tably  comic,  and  he  proceeded,  "  it  warms  the 
stomach  and  the  heart ;  and  the  savages,  when 
they  once  taste  it,  suck  at  a  bottle  by  instinct, 
as  natural  as  a  six-weeks  cub  at  his  dam  :  I 
often  wonder.  Master  Reginald,  why  you  spoil 
that  fine  eau  de  «te  which  little  Perrot  puts  into 
your  hunting  flask,  by  mixing  with  it  a  quanti- 
ty of  water !  In  my  last  trip  to  the  mountains, 
where  I  was  first  guide  and  turpret,*  they  gave 
me  a  taste  now  and  then,  and  I  never  found  it 
do  me  harm ;  but  the  nature  of  an  Ingian  is  dif- 
ferent, you  know." 

"  Well,  Baptiste,"  said  Reginald,  smiling  at 
his  follower's  defence  of  his  favourite  beverage ; 
"I  will  say,  that  I  never  knew  you  to  take 
mure  than  you  could  carry ;  but  your  head  is 
as  strong  as  your  back,  and  you  sometimes 
prove  the  strength  of  both." 

The  conversation  was  suddenly  interrupted 
by  the  report  uf  Reginald's  rifle,  and  a  grey 
squirrel  fell  froiu  the  top  of  a  hickory,  where  he 

*  "jlnglM  "Intsrpmer." 


{ was  feasting  in  fancied  security.  Baptiste  took 
up  the  little  animal,  and  having  examine*.'  it  at- 
tentively, shook  his  head  gravely,  saying,  "  Maa- 
ter  Reginald,  there  is  not  a  quicker  eye,  nor  a 
truer  hand  in  the  Territory,  but — " 

As  he  hesitated  to  finish  the  sentence,  Regi- 
nald added  laughing,  "but — but — I  am  an  ob- 
stinate fellow,  tecause  I  will  not  exchange  my 
favo  irite  German  rifle,  with  its  heavy  bullet,  for 
a  long  Virginia  barrel,  with  a  ball  like  a  pea ; 
is  it  not  so,  Baptiste  1" 

The  guide's  natural  good-humour  struggled 
with  prejudices  which,  on  this  subject,  had  been 
more  than  once  wounded  by  his  young  compan' 
ion,  as  he  replied,  "  Why,  Master  Reginald, 
the  deer,  whose  saddle  is  on  my  shoulder,  found 
my  pea  hard  enough  to  swallow,  and  luok  here, 
at  this  poor  little  vermint  you  have  just  killed, — 
there  is  a  hole  in  his  neck  big  enough  to  let  the 
life  out  of  a  grisly  hear ;  yuu  have  hit  him  near- 
ly an  inch  farther  back  than  I  taught  you  to  aim 
before  you  went  across  the  great  water,  and 
learnt  all  kinds  of  British  and  German  notions  1" 

Reginald  smiled  at  the  hunter's  characteris- 
tic reproof,  and  replied  in  a  tone  of  kindness, 
"  Well,  Baptiste,  all  tifat  I  do  know  of  tracking 
a  deer,  or  lining  a  bee,  or  of  bringing  down  one 
of  these  little  vermint,  I  learned  first  from  yuu : 
and  if  I  am  a  promising  pupil,  the  credit  is  due 
to  Baptiste,  the  best  hunter  in  forest  or  prairie !" 

A  glow  of  pleasure  passed  over  the  guide's 
sunburnt  countenance ;  and  grasping  in  his  hard 
and  horny  fingers  his  young  master's  hand,  he 
said,  "  Thank'ee.  Master  Reginald ;  and  as  for 
me,  though  I'm  only  a  poor '  Coureur  des  bois,'*  I 
a'nt  feared  to  back  my  pupil  against  any  man  that 
walks,  from  Dan  Boone,  of  Kentucky,  to  Bloody- 
hand,  the  great  war-chief  of  the  Cayugas." 

As  he  spoke,  they  came  in  sight  of  the  river, 
and  the  blue  smoke  curling  up  among  the  trees, 
showed  our  travellers  that  they  had  not  missed 
their  path  to  Michael's  log-house  and  ferry. 
"What  have  we  herel"  exclaimed  Baptiste, 
catching  his  companion  by  the  arm ;  "  'tis  even 
as  I  told  you :  the  old  rogue  is  smoking  his 
pipe  over  a  glass  of  brandy  in  his  kitchen  cor- 
ner; and  there  is  a  wild-looking  Indian  pulling 
himself  across  with  three  horses  in  that  crazy 
batteau,  almost  as  old  and  useless  as  its  owner !" 

"  He  will  scarcely  reach  the  opposite  bank," 
said  Reginald ;  "  the  river  is  muddy  and  swoll- 
en with  melted  snow,  and  his  horses  seem  dis- 
posed to  be  unquiet  passengers." 

They  had  now  approached  near  enough  to> 
enable  them  to  distinguish  the  features  of  the  • 
Indian  in  the  boat;  the  guide  scanned  them 
with  evident  surprise  and  interest,  the  result  of ; 
which  was,  a  noise  that  broke  from  him,  seme- 
thing  between  a  grunt  and  a  whistle,  as  he 
muttered,  "  What  can  have  brought  him  herel" 

"  Do  you  know  that  fine-looking  fellow,  then  4" 
inquired  Reginald. 

"  Know  him.  Master  Reginald !— does '  Wolf 
know  Miss  Lucy  t — does  a  bear  know  a  bee- 
tree  t— I  should  know  him  among  a  thousand 
Red-skins,  though  he  were  twice  as  well  dis- 
guised. T6te-bleu,  master,  look  at  those  wild 
brutes  how  they  struggle;  he  and  they  .will 
taste  Muskingum  water  before  long." 

*  "  Coureur  des  bois,"  ui  appellattoa  oncn  (tyen  to  the 
OsnodUo  ami  i»lf-bre«d  woodimaii. 


rr^ 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


u 


Baptiste  took 
umioet'  it  at- 
aying, "  Maa- 
er  eye,  nor  a 

intence,  Regi- 
-I  am  an  ob- 
exchange  my 
ary  bullet,  for 
II  like  a  pea ; 

our  struggled 
iject,  had  been 
uungcompan- 
iter  Reginald, 
lioulder,  found 
and  look  here, 
5  just  killed, — 
)ugh  to  let  the 
3  hit  him  near- 
;bt  you  to  aim 
It  water,  and 
nan  notions  1" 
s  characteris- 
I  of  kindness, 
iw  of  tracking 
;ing  down  one 
irst  from  you ; 
I  credit  is  due 
St  or  prairie !" 
er  the  guide's 
ing  in  his  hard 
er's  hand,  he 
d ;  and  as  for 
ur  des  bois,'*  I 
t  any  man  that 
ky,  to  Bloody- 
payugas." 
It  of  the  river, 
ong  the  trees, 
ad  not  missed 
Be  and  ferry, 
ped  Baptiste, 
n  ;  "  'tis  even 
smoking  his 
kitchen  cor- 
[ndian  pulling 
in  that  crazy 
IS  its  owner!" 
posite  bank," 
dy  and  swoll- 
ses  seem  dis- 

ar  enough  to. 
Btures  of  the  - 
canned  them 
the  result  of ; 
n  him,  seme- 
histle,  as  he 
It  him  here  V 
ellow,thenji" 

-does  •  Wolf 
know  a  bee- 
:  a  thousand 
as  well  dis- 
t  those  wild 
nd  they  .will 


1 
4. 


•n  (lyeB  to  the 


While  he  was  speaking  one  of  the  horses 
reared,  another  kicked  furiously,  the  shallow 
flat  boat  was  upset,  and  both  they  and  the  In- 
dian fell  headlong  into  the  river^they  had  been 
secured  together  by  a  "  laryette"  or  thong  of 
hide,  which  unfortunately  came  athwart  the  In- 
dian's shoulder,  and  thus  he  was  held  below  the 
water,  while  the  struggles  of  the  frightened  ani- 
mals rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  extricate 
himself  "He  is  entangled  in  the  laryeMe," 
said  the  guide ;  "  nothing  can  save  him,"  he 
added  in  a  grave  and  sadder  tone.  "  'Tis  a  no- 
ble  youth,  and  I  would  have  wished  him  a  braver 
death  !  What  are  you  doing.  Master  Reginald ! 
— are  you  madi  No  man  can  swim  in  that 
torrent.    For  your  father's  sake — " 

But  his  entreaties  and  attempts  to  restrain 
his  impetuous  contpanion  were  fruitless,  for 
Reginald  had  already  thrown  on  the  ground  his 
leathern  hunting  shirt,  his  rifle,  and  ammunition ; 
and  shaking  otf  the  grasp  of  the  guide  as  if  the 
latter  had  been  a  child,  he  plunged  into  the  river, 
and  swam  to  the  spot  where  the  feebler  strug- 
gles of  the  horses  showed  that  they  were  now 
almost  at  the  mercy  of  the  current.  When  he 
reached  them,  Reginald  dived  below  the  near- 
est, and  dividing  the  laryette  with  two  or  three 
successful  strokes  of  his  knife,  brought  the  ex- 
hausted Indian  to  the  surface ;  for  a  moment, 
he  feared  that  he  had  come  too  late ;  but  on  in- 
haling a  breath  of  air,  the  Redskin  seemed  to 
regain  both  consciousness  and  strength,  and 
was  able  in  his  turn  to  assist  Reginald,  who  had 
received,  when  under  water,  a  blow  on  the 
head  from  the  horse's  hoof,  the  blood  flowing 
fast  from  the  wound ;  short  but  expressive  was 
the  greeting  exchanged  as  they  struck  out  for 
the  bank  which  one  of  the  horses  had  already 
gained;  another  was  bruised,  battered,  and 
tossed  about  among  some  shelving  rocks  lower 
down  the  river ;  and  the  third  was  fast  hurried 
towards  the  same  dangerous  spot,  when  the  In- 
dian, uttering  a  shrill  cry,  turned  and  swam  again 
towards  this,  his  favoi;rite  horse,  and  by  a  great 
exertion  of  s'iH  and  strength,  brought  it  to  a 
part  of  the  river  where  the  current  was  less 
rapid,  and  thence  led  it  safely  ashore. 

These  events  had  paused  in  less  time  than 
their  narration  has  occupied,  and  the  whole  bi- 
ped and  quadruped  party  now  stood  drenched 
and  dripping  on  the  bank.  The  two  young  men 
gazed  at  each  other  in  silence,  with  looks  of 
mingled  interest  and  admiration ;  indeed,  if  a 
sculptor  had  desired  to  place  together  two  differ- 
ent specimens  of  youthful  manhood,  in  which 
symmetry  and  strength  were  to  be  gracefully 
united,  he  could  scarcely  have  selected  two  finer 
models :  in  height  they  might  be  about  equal ; 
and  though  the  frame  and  muscular  proportions 
of  Reginald  were  more  powerful,  there  was  a 
roundness  and  compact  knitting  of  the  joints, 
and  a  sinewy  suppleness  in  the  limbs  of  his  new 
acquaintance,  such  as  he  thought  he  had  never 
seen  equalled  in  statuary  or  in  life.  Tlie  In- 
dian's gaze  was  so  fixed  and  piercing,  that  Regi- 
nald's eye  wandered  more  than  once  from  his 
countenance  to  the  belt,  where  his  war-club  was 
still  suspended  by  a  thong,  the  scaln-knife  in  its 
sheath,  and  near  it  a  scalp,  evidently  that  of  a 
white  man,  and  bearing  the  appearance  of  hav- 
ing been  recently  taken. 

With  a  slight  shudder  of  disgust,  he  raised 


his  eyes  again  to  the  chiselled  features  of  the 
noble-looking  being  before  him,  and  felt  assured 
that  though  they  might  be  those  of  a  savago 
warrior,  they  could  not  be  those  of  a  lurking  as- 
sassin. The  Indian  now  moved  a  step  forward, 
and  taking  Reginald's  hand,  placed  it  upon  his 
own  heart,  saying  distinctly  in  English,  "My^ 
brother !" 

Reginald  understood  and  appreciated  this  sim- 
ple expression  of  gratitude  and  friendship;  he 
imitated  his  new  friend's  action,  and  evinced., 
both  by  his  looks  and  the  kindly  tone^  of  hi» 
voice,  the  interest  which,  to  bis  own  surprise, 
the  Indian  had  awakened  in  his  breast. 

At  this  juncture  they  were  joined  by  the 
guide,  who  had  paddled  himself  across  in  a 
canoe  that  he  found  at  the  ferry,  which  was  tw»' 
hundred  yards  above  the  spot  where  they  now 
stood.  At  his  approach,  the  young  Indian  re- 
sumed his  silent  attitude  of  repose  ;  while  ap- 
parently unconscious  of  his  presence,  Baptiste 
poured  upon  his  favourite  a  mingled  torrent  of 
reproofs  and  congratulations. 

"Why,  Master  Reginald,  did  the  mad  spirit 
possess  you  to  jump  into  the  Muskingum,  and 
dive  like  an  otter,  where  the  water  was  swifl: 
and  dark  as  the  Niagara  rapids  !  Pardie, 
though,  it  was  bravely  done'  another  minute, 
and  our  Redskin  friend  would  have  been  in  the 
hunting-ground  of  his  forefathers.  Give  me 
your  hand,  master;  I  love  you  better  than 
ever  !  I  had  a  mind  to  take  a  duck  myself  after 
ye ;  but  thought,  if  bad  luck  came,  I  might  serve 
ye  better  with  the  canoe."  While  rapidly  ut- 
tering these  broken  sentences,  he  handed  to 
Reginald  the  hunting-shirt,  rifle,  and  other 
things,  which  he  had  brought  over  in  the  canoe, 
and  wrung  the  water  out  of  his  cap,  being  all 
the  time  In  a  state  of  ill-dissembled  excitement. 
This  done,  he  turned  to  the  young  Indian,  who 
was  standing  aside,  silent  and  motionless.  The 
guide  scanned  his  features  with  a  searching 
look,  and  then  muttered  audibly,  "I  knew  if 
must  be  he." 

A  gleam  shot  from  the  dark  eye  of  the  Indian,, 
proving  that  he  heard  and  understood  the 
phrase,  but  not  a  word  escaped  his  lips. 

Reginald,  unable  to  repress  his  curiosity,  ex- 
claimed, "  Must  be  wt  1,  Baptiste  I  Who  is  my 
Indian  friend — my  brother  1" 

A  lurking  smile  played  round  the  month  of 
the  guide,  as  he  said  in  a  low  tone  to  the  In- 
dian, "Does  the  paint  on  my  brother's  face  tail 
a  tale  1  is  his  path  in  the  night  1  roust  his  name 
dwell  between  shut  lips  1" 

To  this  last  question  the  Indian,  moving  for- 
ward with  that  peculiar  grace  and  innate  dig- 
nity which  characterized  all  his  movements,, 
replied,  "  The  War-Eagle  hides  his  name  frota 
none :  his  cry  is  heard  from  far,  and  his  path 
is  strait:  a  dog's  scalp  is  at  his  belt !"  Here 
he  paused  a  moment ;  and  added,  in  a  soflened. 
tone,  "  But  the  bad  Spirit  prevailed :  the  waters, 
were  too  strong  for  him ;  the  swimming-war- 
rior's knife  came ;  and  again  the  War-Eagle- 
saw  the  light."  _ 

"  And  found  a  brother — is  it  not  sol"  added. 
Reginald. 

"  It  is  so !"  replied  the  Indian :  and  there 
was  a  depth  of  pathos  in  the  tone  of  his  voice 
as  he  spoke,  virhich  convinced  Reginald  that 
those  words  cam6  from  the  heart 


16 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


"There  were  three  horses  with  you  in  the 
ban,"  said  the  guide :  "  two  are  under  yonder 
trees ;— where  Is  the  third  !" 

"  Dead,  among  those  rocks  below  the  rapids," 
answered  War- Eagle,  quietly.  "  He  was  a  fool, 
and  was  taken  from  a  fool,  and  both  are  now 
together :"  as  he  spoke  he  pointed  scornfully  to 
the  scalp  which  hung  at  hi:^.  belt. 

Reginald  and  Daptiste  interchanged  looks  of 
up<;a8y  curiosity,  and  then  directing  their  eyes 
towards  the  distant  spot  indicated  by  the  In- 
dian, they  distinguished  the  battered  carcass  of 
the  animal,  partly  hid  by  the  water,  and  partly 
resting  against  the  rock,  which  prevented  it 
from  floating  down  with  the  current. 

The  party  now  turned  towards  the  horses 
among  the  trees  ;  which,  after  enjoying  them- 
selves by  rolling  in  the  gra.'iS,  were  feeding, 
apparently  unconscious  of  their  double  misde- 
meanour in  having  first  upset  the  bac,  and  then 
nearly  drowned  their  master  by  their  strjuggles 
in  the  water.  As  Reginald  and  his  two  com- 
panions approached,  an  involuntary  exclama- 
tion of  admiration  burst  from  him. 

"  Heavens,  Baptiste !  did  you  ever  see  so 
niagnilicent  a  creature  as  that  with  the  laryette 
round  his  neck  1  And  what  a  colour !  it  seem'b 
between  chestnut  and  black  !  Look  at  his  short, 
wild  head,  his  broad  forehead,  his  bold  eye,  and 
that  long  silky  mane  falling  below  his  shoulder ! 
Look,  also,  at  his  short  baol;  and  legs !  Why, 
be  has  the  beauty  of  a  barb  joined  to  the  strength 
of  an  English  hunter  !" 

It  may  be  well  imagined  that  the  greater  por- 
tion of  this  might  have  been  a  soliloquy,  as 
Daptiste  understood  but  few,  the  Indian  none, 
of  the  expressions  which  Reginald  uttered  with 
enthusiastic  rapidity;  h  h,  however,  under- 
stood enough  to  know  that  he  was  admiring 
the  animal,  and  both  judged  that  his  admiration 
was  nut  misplaced. 

Our  hero  (for  so  we  must  denominate  Regi- 
^uild  Brandon)  approached  to  handle  and  caress 
^he  horse ;  but  the  latter,  with  erect  ears  and 
expanded  nostrils,  snorted  an  indignant  refusal 
«f  these  civilities,  and  trotted  off,  tossing  high 
his  mane  as  if  in  defiance  of  man's  dominion. 
At  this  moment,  the  War-Eagle  uttered  a  shrill, 
peculiar  cry,  when  immediately  the  obedient 
horse  came  to  (^  side,  rubbing  his  head  against 
his  master's  Biuiulder,  and  courting  those  ca- 
resses which  he  had  so  lately  and  so  scornfully 
refused  from  Reginald. 

While  the  docile  and  intelligent  animal  thus 
stood  beside  him,  a  sudden  ray  of  light  sparkled 
in  the  Indian's  eye,  an  n  iili  rapid  utterance,  not 
unmingled  with  gesil(;ii!,itjon,  he  said,  "The 
AVar-Eagle's  path  was  toward  the  evening  sun  ; 
his  tomahawk  drank  the  Comanchee's  blood; 
the  wild  horse  was  swift,  and  strung,  and  fierce ; 
the  cunning  man  on  the  evening  prairie  said  he 
was  Niktmt,* — '  the  Great  Spirit's  angry  breath ;' 
but  the  War-Eagle's  neck-bullet  struck" — 

At  this  part  of  the  narrative,  the  guide,  car- 
ried away  by  the  enthusiasm  of  the  scene  de- 
scribed, ejaculated  in  the  Delaware  tongue, 
•  "  That  v.'as  bravely  done !" 

For  a  moment  the  young  Indian  paused  ;  and 
then,  with  increased  rapidity  and  vehemence, 
told  in  his  own  language  how  he  had   cap- 

*  NekiiDi  is  the  Delaware  fur  "  Tbunder." 


tured  and  subdued  the  horse;  which  faithi'ul 
creature,  seemingly  anxious  to  bear  witness  to 
the  truth  of  his  master's  tale,  still  sought  and 
returned  his  qvesses.  The  Indian,  however, 
was  not  thereoy  deterred  from  the  purpose 
which  had  already  made  his  e^e  flash  with  plea- 
sure. Taking  the  thong  in  his  hand,  and  plac- 
ing it  in  that  of  Reginald,  he  said,  resuming  the 
English  tongue,  "  The  War-Eagle  gives  Nckimi 
to  his  brniber.  The  white  warrior  may  nunt 
the  mastoche,*  he  may  overtake  his  enemies, 
he  may  fly  from  the  prairie- fire  when  the  wind 
is  strong :  Nekimi  never  tires!" 

Reginald  was  so  surprised  at  this  unexpected 
ofTer,  that  he  felt  much  embarrassed,  and  hesi- 
tated whether  he  ought  not  to  decline  the  gifl. 
Baptiste  saw  a  cloud  gathering  on  the  Indian's 
brow,  and  said  in  a  low  voice  to  his  master  in 
French,  "  You  must  take  the  horse ;  a  refusal 
would  mortally  oflfend  him."  Our  hero  accor- 
dingly accompanied  his  expression  of  thanks 
with  every  demonstration  of  satisfaction  and 
afTection.  Again  War-Eagle's  face  brightened 
with  pleasure ;  but  the  efl^ect  upon  Nekimi 
seemed  to  be  very  difTerent,  for  he  stoutly  re- 
sisted his  new  master's  attempts  at  approach 
or  acquaintance,  snorting  and  backing  at  every 
step  made  by  Reginald  in  advance. 

"  The  white  warrior  must  learn  to  speak  to 
Nekimi,"  said  the  Indian,  quietly  ;  and  he  again 
repeated  the  short,  shrill  cry  before  noticed.  la 
vain  our  hero  tried  to  imitate  the  sound ;  the 
horse's  ears  remained  deaf  to  his  voice,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  his  new  acquisition  could  prove  but 
of  little  service  to  him. 

War-Eagle  now  took  Reginald  aside,  and 
smeared  his  hands  with  some  grease  taken  from 
a  small  bls'lder  in  his  girdle,  and  on  his  extend- 
ing them  again  towards  the  horse,  much  of  the 
fear  and  dislike  evinced  by  the  laiier  disap- 
peared. As  soon  as  the  animal  would  permit 
Reginald  to  touch  it,  the  Indian  desired  him  to 
hold  its  nostril  firmly  in  his  hand,  and  placing 
his  face  by  the  horse's  head,  to  look  up  stead- 
fastly into  its  eye  fur  several  minutes,  speaking 
low  at  intervals  to  accustom  it  to  his  voice ; 
he  assured  him  that  in  a  few  days  Nekimi 
wouid  through  this  treatment  become  docile 
and  obedient. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Regluald  and  BaMtste  pay  a  visit  to  War-engle. — An  at' 
tempt  at  treacliery  meets  with  summary  punishment. 

The  other  horse  being  now  secured,  the  party 
prepared  to  resume  their  journey ;  and  as  it 
appeared  after  a  few  words  whispered  between 
the  Indian  and  the  guide,  that  their  routes  were 
in  the  same  direction,  they  struck  into  the  for- 
est, Baptiste  leading,  fo!!owed  by  Reginald,  and^ 
War-Eagle  bringing  up  the  rear  with  the  two 
horses. 

After  walking  a  few  minutes  in  silence,  "  Bap- 
tiste," said  our  hero  in  French,  "  what  was  the 
story  told  about  the  horse  1  I  understood  little 
of  what  he  said  in  English,  and  none  of  what  he 
spoke  in  his  own  tongue." 

*  In  Ihc  Delnware  lani;uni;e  this  expression  seems  ap- 
pllcnbie  ui  any  large  swifi  animal,  as  It  Is  given  to  the  elk, 
the  bulTulo,  &c. 


J 


*M 


THE  PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


17 


lich  faitbi'ul 
r  witness  to 
sought  and 
n,  however, 
the  purpose 
ill  with  plea- 
id,  and  plao- 
esuming  the 
jives  Nckimi 
}r  may  nunt 
his  enemies, 
len  the  wind 

I  unexpected 
;d,  and  hesi- 
line  the  gift. 

the  Indian's 
lis  master  in 
le;  a  refusal 

hero  accor> 
>n  of  thanks 
Isfaction  and 
!e  brightened 
ipon  Neitimi 
le  stoutly  re- 
I  at  approach 
(ing  at  every 

1  to  speak  to 
and  he  again 

e  noticed.   In 

e  sound ;  the 
voice,  and  it 

>uld  prove  but 

d  aside,  and 
se  taken  from 
in  his  extend- 
,  much  of  the 
latter  disap- 
vould  permit 
esired  him  to 
.  and  placing 
)ok  up  stead- 
ites,  speaking 
to  his  voice  ; 
days  Nekimi 
ecome  docile 


■-engle.— An  at' 
'  punishment. 

red,  the  party 
and  as  it 
ered  between 
r  routes  were 
into  the  for- 
tleginald,  and^ 
with  the  two 

ilence,  "  Bap- 
what  was  the 
lerstood  little 
ne  of  what  he 


Blnn  wenis  ap- 
given  to  the  elk, 


-"  He  told  us.  Master  Reginald,  that  he  was 
out  on  a  war-party  against  the  Camanch<*e8,  a 
wild  tribe  of  Indians  in  the  South-west ;  they 
steal  horses  from  the  Mexicans,  and  exchange 
thtiii  with  the  Ariearat,  Kiuways,  Pawnees, 
and  other  Missouri  Indians." 

"  Well,  Daptiste,  how  did  he  take  this  swift 
horse  with  his  '  neck-bullet,'  as  he  called  it  •" 

"  That,  Master  Reginald,  is  the  most  difficult 
shot  in  the  prairie ;  and  I  have  known  few  Red- 
skins up  to  it.  The  western  hunters  call  it 
■  creasing :' — a  ball  must  be  shot  just  on  the  up- 
per edge  of  the  spme  where  it  enters  the  horse's 
neck  ;  if  it  is  exactly  done,  the  horse  falls  im- 
mediately,  and  is  secured,  then  the  wound  ts 
afterwards  healed ;  but,  if  the  ball  strikes  an 
inch  lower,  the  spine  is  missed,  or  the  horse  is 
killed.  Few  Redskins  :an  do  it,"  muttered  the 
guide,  "and -the  'doctor'  here,"  shaking  his 
lung  rifle,  '*  has  failed  more  than  once ;  but 
War-  Eagle  has  said  it,  and  there  are  no  lies  in 
Ilia  mouth." 

"Tell  me,  Baptiste,"  said  Reginald,  earn- 
estly ;  "  tell  ine  something  about  my  brother's 
history,  his  race,  and  exploits." 

"  Afterwards,  my  young  master.  I  know  not 
that  he  understands  us  now ;  bnt  these  Indians 
are  curious  criiturs  in  hearing  ;  I  believe  if  you 
spuke  in  that  strange  Dutch  lingo  which  you 
learnt  across  the  water,  the  Redskins  would 
know  how  to  answer  you — stay,"  he  added,  put- 
ting his  rifle  to  his  shoulder,  "  here  is  work  for 
the  doctor." 

Reginald  looked  in  the  direction  of  the  piece, 
but  saw  nothing ;  and  the  guide,  v/hile  taking 
his  aim,  still  muttered  to  himself,  "  the  pills  are 
very  small,  but  they  work  somewhat  sharp." 
Pausing  n  moment,  he  drew  the  trigger ;  and  a 
Midden  bound  from  under  a  brake,  at  fifty  yards 
distance,  was  the  last  death-spring  of  the  un- 
lacky  deer  whose  lair  had  not  escaped  the  hun- 
ter's practised  eye. 

'•  Bravely  shot,"  shouted  Reginald ;  "  what 
says  War-Eagle  1" 

"  Good,"  replied  the  Indian. 

'■  Nay,"  said  Baptiste ;  "  there  was  not  much 
in  the  shot ;  but  your  French  waly-de-shnm 
might  have  walked  past  those  bushes  without 
noting  the  twinkle  of  that  crittur's  eye.  Our 
lledskin  f.iend  saw  it  plain  enough  I  warrant 
yuu,"  he  added,  with  an  inquiring  look. 

"  War-Eagle's  path  is  not  on  the  deer  track," 
said  the  young  chief,  with  a  stern  gravity. 

In  a  very  lew  miuutes  an  additional  load  of 
venison  was  across  the  sturdy  sho'ilders  of  the 
guide,  and  the  party  resumed  their  march  in 
silence. 

'I'hey  had  not  proceeded  far,  when  the  Indian 
halted,  saying,  "War-Eagle's  camp  is  near; 
will  my  white  brother  eat  and  smoked — the  sun 
is  high,  he  can  then  return  to  his  great  wig- 
wam." 

Reginald,  who  was  anxious  to  see  more  of 
Kis  now  friend,  and  in  whom  the  morning's  ex- 
ercise had  awakened  a  strong  relish  for  a  slice 
of  broiled  venisun,  assented  at  once,  and  desired 
liiiii  to  lead  the  way. 

As  he  was  still  followed  hy  the  two  horses, 
War-EHgle  was  somewhat  in  advance  of  his 
companions,  and  Baptiste  whispered  in  French, 
"  Beware,  Master  Reginald — you  may  fall  into 
a  trap." 

B 


"  For  shame,"  said  the  latter,  colouring  with 
indignation;  "can  you  suspect  treachery  in 
Aim  /  Did  you  not  yourself  say  he  could  not 
lie  V 

"  Your  reproof  is  undeserved,"  said  the  cool 
and  wary  hunter ;  "  War-Eagle  may  not  be 
alone,  there  may  be  t'.irkey-biizzards  with  him." 

"  If  there  lie  a  acr;a  of  vultures,"  said  Regi- 
nald, "  I  will  follo>y  him  without  fear — he  would 
not  lead  us  into  ha;m." 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,"  was  the  guide's 
answer;  and  again  the  party  resumed  their 
march  in  silence. 

They  soon  arrived  at  a  place  where  the  forest 
was  less  densely  wooded ;  some  of  the  larger 
trees  appeared  to  have  been  overthrown  by  a 
hurricane,  and  some  of  the  lesser  to  have  fallen 
by  the  axe.  Nekimi  trr  'ted  forward,  as  if  mak- 
ing for  a  spot  that  he  recognised,  and  the  In- 
dian recalled  him  with  the  same  cry  that  he 
had  before  used,  adding,  however,  another,  and 
a  shriller  sound. 

The  guide  shook  his  head,  and  muttered 
something  inaudibly  between  his  teeth.  loosen- 
ing at  the  same  time  the  huge  axe  in  his  belt, 
and  throwing  his  long  rifle  over  his  arm,  ready 
for  immediate  use. 

These  preparations  did  not  escape  the  obser- 
Tation  of  Reginald  ;  and  although  he  said  noth- 
ing, he  felt  more  uneasy  than  he  cared  to  own  - 
for  it  struck  him  that  if  the  guide,  who  seemed 
to  have  so  high  an  opinion  of  War-Eagle,  was 
apprehensive  of  treachery  or  of  some  unfore- 
seen danger,  there  was  less  ground  for  his  own 
confidence. 

Meantime  the  Indian  walked  conjposedly  for- 
ward until  he  reached  the  camp,* — a  pretty 
spot,  sheltered  on  the  windward  side  hy  a  laurel 
thicket,  and  on  the  othP'  commaiiding  a  view  of 
the  open  glade,  and  of  a  small  stream  winding 
its  silent  course  towards  the  river  which  our 
party  had  so  lately  left.  ■ 

On  a  grassy  plot,  between  two  venerable 
trees,  the  embers  of  a  smouldering  fire  sent  up 
the  thin  blue  vapour  which  rises  from  the  burn- 
ing of  green  wood,  several  lojrs  of  which  were 
still  piled  for  fuel ;  while  sundry  bones  and 
feathers,  scattered  at  no  great  distance,  gave 
sutlicient  evidence  of  recent  feasting. 

War-Eagle  glanced  hastily  arounti  his  camp ; 
and  leaving  Nekimi  to  feed  at  liberty,  secured 
the  less  tractable  horse ;  while  he  was  thus  cm- 
ployed,  the  guide  whispered  in  a  low  voice, 
"  There  are  three  or  four  Indians  here  I  I  trace 
their  marks  on  the  grass,  and  I  know  it  by  this 
fire;  it  is  a  war  party — there  are  no  squaws 
here;  Master  Regtiald,  Keep  your  ears  and 
eyes  open,  but  show  no  distrust ;  if  he  offers  a 
pipe,  all  may  yet  be  right." 

Althous!h  the  guide  said  this  so  distinctly  that 
Reginald  heard  every  syllable,  he  was  to  all  ap- 
pearance busily  engaged  in  throwing  some  dry 
sticks  on  the  fire,  and  easing  himself  of  the 
skins  and  the  venison  with  which  he  was  load- 
ed. The  Indian  now  took  from  a  hollow  in  one 
of  the  old  trees  before-mentioned,  a  pipe,  the 
bowl  of  which  was  of  red  sandstone,  and  the 


*  Among  the  western  hunters  any  resting-plncc  Tor  the 
nlchl.  or  even  where  a  tiro  Una  been  innde  Tor  n  iiiiil-<ii»y 
hHJt,  tliougb  it  inny  bo  by  one  inillviiluiil,  is  cunimonly 
called  "  a  camp."  This  must  be  borne  m  mind  ttuougti- 
out  tjke  fuiluwlng  tale. 


16 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD 


stick  painted  and  ornamenud  with  stained  por- 
cupine quills ;  liu  also  drew  nut  a  leather  bug  of 
Kinni-kinek  ;*  and  having  Ailed  and  lighted  his 
pipe,  seated  himseir  at  a  short  distance  from 
the  Are,  and  gravely  invited  Reginald  to  sit  on 
his  right,  and  the  guide  on  his  loll.  As  soon  as 
they  were  seated,  War-Eagle  inhaled  a  large 
voluiiio  of  smoke ;  and  looking  reverently  up  to 
the  sky,  sent  forth  a  long  whitf,  as  an  oflering  to 
the  Great  Spirit;  then  simply  saying,  "My 
brother  is  welcome,"  he  passed  the  pipe  to  Re- 
ginald, and  allerwards  to  Uaptisle. 

For  some  time  they  smoked  in  silence  :  not 
a  sound  was  heard  but  the  crackling  of  the 
wood  on  the  fire,  and  the  occasional  chirrup  of 
a  robin  in  the  neighbouring  bushes ;  this  silent 
system  not  suiting  Reginald's  ardent  tempera- 
ment, he  abruptly  addressed  the  Indian  as  fol- 
lows: 

"  Has  my  brother  come  far  from  his  peo- 
ple 1" 

A  cloud  gathered  on  the  chief's  brow,  and 
the  guide  thought  that  a  storm  of  wrath  would 
be  excited  by  this  unlucky  question ;  but  the 
Indian  looking  steadily  upon  the  frank  open 
countenance  of  the  speaker,  replied  in  a  voice 
rather  melancholy  than  fierce,  "  War  Eagle  has 
few  people:  the  bones  of  his  fathers  are  not 
far  .'" 

Our  hero  anxious  to  dismiss  a  subject  which 
seemed  painful  to  his  new  friend,  turned  the 
conversation  to  his  equipment,  and  observed, 
"  My  brother  walks  abroad  without  fear ;  ho  is 
almost  without  arms." 

The  Indian  carelessly  resting  his  hand  upon 
bis  war-club,  said  (speaking  rather  to  himself 
than  to  his  companions),  "It  has  tasted  blood  : 
ask  the  Dahcotaha !" 

"  The  Dahcotaha  are  dogs."  said  the  guide 
angrily.  "  Their  skins  are  red,  but  their  hearts 
are  white !" 

War-Eagle  turning  upon  him  a  penetrating 
look,  continued,  "  Grande-H&che  is  a  warrior ; 
he  has  smoked,  has  feasted,  has  fought  among 
the  Lenape  ;*  he  has  struck  more  than  one  Dah- 
cotah  chief.  But  the  Grande-Hache  cannot 
rest :  the  scalp  of  his  mother  hangs  in  the  h)dge 
of  the  A*siniboint ;  t  her  spirit  is  unquiet  in  the 
dark  hunting-ground." 

The  guide  made  no  reply,  but  the  forced 
compression  nf  his  lips,  and  the  muscular  con- 
traction that  passed  over  his  sinewy  frame, 
showed  how  deeply  be  cherished  that  vengeance 
which  the  Indian's  word  awakened. 

"  This  is,  then,"  said  our  bero  to  himself, 
"  the  cause  of  that  fierce  unextinguishable  hate 
which  Baptiste  has  always  borne  to  these 
Sioux ;  I  cannot  wonder  at  it."  Reginald  con- 
tinued, however,  bis  conversation  respecting 
his  new  friend's  equipment,  in  the  same  tone  : 
*'  My  brother's  war-club  is  strong,  and  that  iron 
spik*  in  its  head  is  sharp;  but  the  rifle  kills 
from  far,  and  the  white  men  are  not  all  friends 
to  him." 


((le  has  tars  and  eyes;  ho  can  see 
,.vtss,"   vas  the  calm  reply. 


*  Kinne-kinek  la  a  inliture  nmde  by  the  Indians  from 
the  Inner  bark  of  the  wUlow  pounded  small,  tobncco,  and 
the  dried  lenves  of  the  sumach :  the  flavour  of  thia  cnm- 
poallion  ta  by  nu  inenna  disagreeiible  ;  the  word  Itself  la 
Uelaware,  but  the  mixture  U  in  common  uiie  among  many 
tribea. 

•The  Delaware! call  themselves  Lennl-Lcnape, — "the 
ancient  nr  original  people." 

t .*«»«iii*oin«— the  "stone  hentera"— a  powerful  and 
warlike  branch  of  the  great  Dahcotah  or  Bioiu  nation. 


"  War  ■ 
snnkes  'n        . 

"  .  ly,  !•  /  brother  is  carelesa,"  said  Regi- 
nald laughing;  ■■  Grande- 1 Uchc,  as  you  call 
him,  and  I  are  two  men,  both  strong  and  arm- 
ed with  rifles  :  if  we  were  not  his  brothers,  the 
War-Kagla  would  be  in  danger." 

"  The  bad  .Spirit  mado  the  thick  water  and 
the  horses  too  strong  for  War  Eagle,"  said  the 
latter,  referring  to  the  morning's  accident,  "  but 
ho  could  not  he  hurt  by  his  brother's  rifle." 

"  And  why  so  1"  demanded  Reginald. 

"  Because,"  said  the  Indian.  "  the  white  war- 
rior has  smoked,  has  taken  his  brother's  aid, 
and  the  Great  Spirit  has  written  on  his  race 
that  he  cannot  speak  lies." 

"  You  are  right,  my  brave  friend."  said  Regi- 
nald, (not  a  little  gratified  by  the  untutored 
compliment;)  "hut  if  you  fall  in  with  white 
men  who  carry  rifles,  and  who  do  speak  lies — 
how  fares  it  with  you  then  1" 

"  War-Eagle  is  always  ready"  said  he,  in  the 
same  unmoved  tone ;  "  the  Grand>>  Hftohe  is  a 
great  warrior — my  brother  will  take  many 
scalps;  yet  if  their  tongues  were  forked— i/ 
their  hearts  were  bad — both  would  die  where 
they  now  sit— they  have  neither  ears  nor  eyes 
—  but  the  Lenape  is  a  chief,  they  are  as  safe 
lice  as  in  the  great  white  village." 

Though  inwardly  nettled  at  this  taunt,  which 
he  felt  to  bo  not  altogether  undeserved,  the 
guide  took  no  other  notice  of  it  than  to  strain 
to  the  utmost  those  organs  of  sight  and  hear- 
ing which  the  Redskin  had  held  so  cheap,  but 
in  vain  :  the  forest  anwnd  them  seemed  wrapt 
in  solitude  and  silence ;  the  eyes  of  Reginald, 
however,  served  him  better  on  this  occasion. 
"  By  heaven,  the  Indian  speaks  truth,"  said  he ; 
"  I  see  them  plainly— one,  two,  three !  and  we, 
Baptiste,  are  at  their  mercy." 

'i'his  he  spoke  in  French,  and  the  guide  an- 
swered in  the  same  language  :  "  Do  you  see 
Indians,  Master  Reginald,  where  I  can  see 
naught  hut  trees,  and  logs,  and  grass;  if  it  is 
so — 1  am  an  owl.  and  no  hunter!" 

"  Glance  your  eye."  said  our  hero,  calmly,  to ' 
yon  cdil  fallen  log,  that  lies  fil\y  or  sixty  yards 
to  your  right,  there  are  three  small  parallel  lines 
visible  there, — they  are  three  gun-barrels ;  the 
sun  shone  on  them  a  minute  since,  and  their 
muzzles  are  directed  full  upon  us." 

"It  is  true;  your  eyea  are  younger  than 
mine,  I  suppose,"  said  the  guide,  apparently 
more  disconcerted  at  that  circumstance  than  at 
the  imminent  peril  of  their  situation.  He  add- 
ed, in  a  low,  iletermined  tone,  "  but  they  musf 
shoot  very  true,  if  they  wish  to  prevent  me  front 
taking  this  deep  and  deceitful  villain  with  mt 
on  the  lung  journey." 

During  the  whole  of  this  conversation,  War- 
Eagle  sat  in  unmoved  silence,  occasionally  puf- 
fing out  a  whifT  from  the  fragrant  herb  in  his 
pipe.  Reginald  met  the  unexpected  danger 
with  the  straightforward,  daring  courage  which 
was  the  characteristic  of  his  mind ;  Baptiste 
with  the  cool  resolution  which  was  the  result 
of  a  life  of  perils,  stratagems,  and  escapes. 

"  War-Eagle,"  said  the  former,  "  you  speak 

true ;  Grand-H&che  and  I  have  shut  our  eyes 

and  ears ;  but  they  are  now  open ;  I  see  your 

warriors." 

The  Indian  turned  his  searching  eye  full  upon 


I 


;  ho  can  u« 

1  reply. 
I,"  laid  RcgN 
Bi  you   cull 
ng  and  arm- 
brulliura,  tho 

;k  water  and 
j{le,"  said  lbs 
icident,  "  but 
r'a  rifle." 
inalil. 

)e  white  war- 

)rutbcr'8  Bin, 

on  his  lace 

,"  said  Regi- 
lie  untutured 
1  with  white 
speak  iiea — 

laid  he,  in  the 
!.).  Hftche  is  a 
take  many 
re  forked — if 
lid  die  where 
Bars  nor  eyes 
r  are  as  safe 

I  taunt,  which 
deserved,  the 
than  to  strain 
[bt  and  hear- 
so  cheap,  but 
leemed  wrapt 
of  llrginald, 
his  occasion, 
nth,"  said  he; 
ree !  and  we, 

ihe  guide  an- 

Do  you  see 

I  can  see 

[rass ;  if  it  it 

I, 

tro,  calmly,  to 

or  sixty  yards 

parallel  lines 

■barrels;  the 

|iue,  and  their 

younger  than 
e,  apparently 
itance  than  at 
ion.  He  add- 
but  they  musi 
ivent  me  fron 
llain  with  ms 

rsation,  War- 
lasionally  puf- 
U  herb  in  his 
ected  danger 
Miurage  which 
ind ;  Baptiate 
tr'as  the  result 
escapes. 
■,  "you  speak 
shut  our  eyes 
I  see  your 

( eye  full  upon 


n 


THE   PRAiniK-BIRD, 


the  speaker ;  he  mot  a  look  bold,  open,  fearless 
as  bis  own.  "  Where  can  my  white  brother 
see  warriors  1"  he  inquired. 

"Their  guns  are  across  yonder  log.'isaid  Re- 
ginald ;  "  and  their  niuxzles  are  pointed  here." 

"It  is  so,"  said  War  Eagle;  "the  red  men 
are  oti  the  war-path ;  they  seek  blood ;  Is  my 
white  brother  not  afraid  1" 

"  War-Eagle  is  a  chief,"  replied  the  young 
man  ;  "  ho  cannot  lie,— he  has  said  that  his 
while  brother  is  as  safe  as  in  the  wigwam  of 
his  father!" 

Again  the  Indian  bent  a  scrutinizing  look 
upon  the  countenance  of  the  speaker,  and  acain 
<«iet  the  same  smile  of  fearless  confidence.  Wiih 
more  emotion  than  he  bad  yet  shown,  he  said, 
"  The  Great  Spirit  has  given  to  my  wliite  broth- 
er the  big  heart  of  a  Lenape !" 

He  now  nmde  a  signal  to  his  ambuscade  to 
come  forth,  on  which  they  started  up  from  he- 
hind  the  large  fallen  tree  which  had  hitherto 
screened  them,  and  advanced  slowly  towards 
the  camp.  They  were  three  in  number ;  two 
of  them  active  looking  men,  of  moderate  stat- 
ure, but  of  symmetrical  proportions ;  the  third 
a  lad,  apparetilly  about  seventeen  years  old; 
the  faces  of  the  two  former  were  painted  with 
black  stripes,  which  gave  them  an  appearance 
at  once  fierce  and  grotesque ;  they  were  lightly 
clad  in  hunting  shirts,  leggins,  and  mocassins, 
all  of  elk-skin,  and  each  carried  a  tomahawk, 
scalp-knife,  and  the  gun  before  mentioned  ;  the 
young  lad  carried  no  other  weapon  but  the  ffi<n  ; 
his  hunting-shirt  was  fancifully  ornamented 
with  tassels  of  porcupine  quills,  and  was  fas- 
tened at  the  waist  by  a  belt  studded  with  party- 
cohmred  beads ;  his  leggins  were  fringed,  and 
his  mocassins  were  also  braided  with  the  quills 
of  the  porcupine ;  in  figure  he  was  slight  and 
tall;  as  he  drew  near,  Reginald  thought  his 
countenance  even  more  remarkable  than  that 
of  War-Eagle;  indeed  its  beauty  would  have 
been  almost  efleminate,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
Tdven  blackness  of  the  hair,  and  the  piercing 
fire  of  tho  dark  eyes.  The  three  came  forward 
in  silence,  the  lad  being  rather  in  advanco  of 
the  others,  and  stood  before  the  War-Eagle. 

He  bade  them  in  hia  own  language  to  he 
seated,  and  smoke  the  pipe  with  the  while  men. 
They  did  so,  with  the  exception  of  the  lad.  who 
not  being  yet  a  warrior,  passed  it  untouched  ; 
and  when  it  had  gone  round,  War- Eagle  har- 
angued his  party ;  as  he  narrated  the  events  ol° 
the  morning,  Reginald  was  struck  by  the  deep 
and  flexible  modulation  of  his  voice ;  and  al- 
though he  did  not  understand  a  word  of  the 
language,  fancied  that  he  knew  when  the  chief 
related  his  immersion  and  subsequent  preserva- 
tion by  the  white  man's  knife. 

t  this  -.jrtion  of  the  tale,  the  Indian  youth 
made  no  tiitempt  to  conceal  his  emotion ;  his 
glistening  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  speaker, 
and  every  feature  of  his  intelligent  countenance 
beamed  with  affectionate  interest :  as  War- 
Eiigle  described  his  being  struck  under  water, 
stunned  by  a  blow  from  a  horse's  fool,  and  that 
tlie  thick  water  covered  him,  a  hurried  excla- 
mation escaped  from  the  boy's  lips ;  and  when 
his  chief  related  how  the  white  warrior  had 
dived,  had  cut  the  cord  in  which  he  was  eni.nn- 
gled,  and  had  brought  him  again  to  the  air  and 
to  life,  the  yruth,  no  longer  able  to  control  his 


feelings,  threw  himsrif  in'o  Reginald's  anna, 
exclrttming  in  good  English, 

"Tlie  (jreat  Spirit  reward  the  white  warri- 
or :  he  has  given  me  back  my  chief— my  broth- 
er!" 

Our  hero  was  no  less  astonished  than  was 
the  guide,  at  such  uncontrolled  emotion  in  a 
youth  of  a  nation  so  early  taught  to  conceal 
their  feelings  ;  nor  were  they  less  surprised  at 
the  clearness  and  purity  of  accent  with  wliich 
he  expressed  himself  in  English. 

"  I  only  did,  my  boy,"  suid  Reginald,  kindly, 
"  what  you  would  have  done  had  you  been  iu 
my  place." 

"  Vou  are  a  great  warrior,"  said  tho  youth, 
running  his  eye  over  the  powerful  frame  beside 
him :  "  Wingenund  would  have  gone  into  the 
strong  river,  and  would  have  dicU  with  the 
War-Ea«le." 

"  Is  Wingenund,  then,  your  name,  my  brave 
boyV 

"  It  was  my  forefather's  name,"  said  the 
youth,  proudly.  "I  havo  yet  no  name:  but 
War-Eagle  says  I  may  have  one  soon,  and  I 
will  have  no  other." 

"  I  feel  sure  you  well  deserve  your  forefa- 
ther's name,"  said  Reginald.  "What  does  it 
mean  in  my  language  !" 

"  It  means  '  The  Beloved  V  " 

"The  youth  speaks  true,"  murmured  the 
guide  (who,  though  busily  engaged  in  rounding 
ofl*  a  bullet  with  his  knile,  lost  not  a  word  or 
gesture  that  passed),  "  he  speaks  only  truth  ;  I 
knew  his  forefather  '.veil :  a  braver  and  better 
heart  never  dwelt  among  the  Lenap6." 

The  boy  looked  gratefully  at  the  weather- 
beaten  hunter ;  and  as  he  cast  his  eyes  down 
in  silence,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  say 
whether  pleasure,  pride,  or  pain,  predominated 
in  their  expression. 

"Tell  me,"  resumed  Reginald,  "how  cotQ* 
you  to  speak  English  like  a  white  man  1" 

"The  good  father  and  Olitipa  taught  me." 

Reginald  looked  at  the  guide  for  an  explana- 
tion; that  worthy  personage  shook  his  head, 
saying,  "The  boy  talks  riddles;  but  they  are 
not  hard  to  guess.  The  good-father  must  be 
some  missionary,  or  priest ;  and  Olitipa  would 
in  their  tongue  signify  '  pretty  prairie-fowl ;'  so 
it  IS  probably  the  name  of  a  Delaware  woman-~ 
perhaps  his  sister." 

"  KtMla,  la— so  it  is,"  said  the  boy :  '<  Oli- 
tipa is  in  your  tongue  'pretty  prairie-bird,'  and 
she  is  my  sister." 

"  Where  is  Prairie-bird  ?"  inquired  Reginald, 
amused  by  the  youth's  naivtU.. 

"  Far,  far  away,  beyond  the  great  river!  But 
we  will  go  back  soon;— shall  we  not1"lte%iD> 
quired,  looking  up  timidly  at  War-Eagle 

"Pechu  Icnitti,"*  answered  the  chief;  and 
leaning  towards  the  youth,  he  added  some 
wurds  in  a  whisper,  which  made  him  start  up 
to  obey  the  orders  he  had  received. 

Reginald  was  not  long  left  in  ignorance  of 
their  nature,  as  in  a  few  minutes  the  active  lad 
had  refreshed  the  fire,  and  was  busy  in  broiling 
seme  venison  steaks,  which,  after  the  exercise 
of  the  morning,  sent  up  a  steam  far  from  un- 
pleasant to  the  senses  of  any  of  those  present. 

"  Master  Reginald,"  said  the  guide,  "  that 


*  " By-and-b)v"or  "soon" 


90 


THE   PRAIUIE.DIRD. 


■illy  pcrroquet  of  youri,  Guatave  Parrot,  it  aU 
wu,v«  ti'lliiiK  Ann  aluriea  uf  whal  ho  ha*  aeun  In 
Euriipt!,  und  talking  uf  the  Bcent  uf  niaea,  anil 
thf  awiel  aoniitla  u(  niuiic,  till  the  girls  in  tho 
cli  urins  think  ho'a  a  book-aulhur  and  a  poet ; 
did  yuu  ever  smell  any  suent,  or  hear  any  niusln, 
Bwct'ier  than  cumes  t'roni  the  hissing  and  friz 
Bing  uf  tliose  slices  of  fat  venison  aAer  a  six 
huuia'  hunt  In  the  mimkIsI" 

" Perhaps  not,"  said  Reginald,  laughing;  "but 
wo  are  only  hunters,  and  Monsieur  Perrut  m  a 
man  of  tu»te." 

"  Whom  havo  we  hero  ^"  grumbled  the  guide, 
as  an  Indian  appeared  in  the  distance  "  t  riend 
War- Eagle,  ia  thia  another  of  your  band!" 

"  Ho  is,"  replied  the  chief :  "  all  are  now 
here  " 

The  new-comer  was  a  powerful,  athletic- 
looking  iiiaii ;  his  face  was  painted  one  half 
black,  and  the  other  half  striped  with  bara  of 
red ;  the  sleeves  of  his  hunting-shirt  were  so 
short  and  loose,  that  hia  naked  arms  were  visi- 
ble, one  of  which  was  tatooed  in  the  form  of  a 
lizard,  and  on  tha  other  he  wore  an  armlet  of 
brass  ;  his  leggins  and  mocassins  were  soiled 
and  torn,  and  the  perspiration  streaming  from 
his  matted  hair  shewed  that  he  had  travelled 
both  far  and  fast.  He  was,  like  the  rest,  e(|uip- 
pi>d  with  riHc,  tomahawk,  and  aoalp-knife  ;  his 
countenance,  as  far  as  it  could  be  distinguished 
through  its  disguise  of  paint,  was  expressive  of 
cunning  and  ferocity.  Though  probably  much 
■orprued  at  seeing  two  white  men  sitting  thus 
amicably  with  his  chief,  he  took  little  notice  of 
them,  or  of  the  rest  of  the  party ;  but  without 
a»king,  or  being  asked,  any  questions,  seated 
liintielf  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  tire,  lighted 
his  pipe,  and  smoked. 

"  Master  Ueginald,"  said  the  guide,  in  French, 
"  I  do  not  like  that  fellow.     I  know  not  how  he 
'  comes  to  be  with  our  friend  here,  for  he  belongs 
to  another  tribe  :  I  have  seen  him  before." 

Meantime,  the  industrious  lad  had  broiled  his 
Tenison  steaks,  and  having  gathered  some  broad 
leaves,  which  served  on  tliix  occasion  for  plates, 
tie  brought  the  first  ••\.<\-  to  Reginald,  tijo  se- 
cond to  Baptiste,  thn  fjext  to  War-Eagle,  and 
so  on,  until  he  weni  through  the  party  ;  aAer 
which,  without  tii^ting  anything  himself,  he 
took  his  station  close  to  his  chief  and  his  new 
friend.  During  the  meal,  the  Indian  last  ar- 
rived talked  much  in  a  suppressed  voice  to  the 
one  next  to  him,  and  seemed  studiously  to 
avert  his  eyes  from  his  chief  and  the  two  white 
men. 

■  "Tarhe,"  said  War-Eagle,  addressing  him, 
**  is  there  not  toMtmanane*  for  the  stranger  1  he 
is  my  brother,  and  his  path  has  been  long." 

T!«rlie  went  to  his  "  cache,"  a  spot  not  many 
yards  diatant,  and  taking  out  two  or  three  small 
cakes,  brought  them  round  behind  his  chief,  and 
ofTered  one  to  our  hero,  who  was  in  the  act  of 
receiving  it,  when  the  miscreant,  drawing  the 
.knife  frnin  his  girdle,  aimed  a  blow  at  the  back 
of  the  unsuspecting  Reginald. 

Nothing  could  have  saved  him  from  instant 
death,  had  not  the  gallant  boy  thrown  himself 
between  the  savage  and  his  victiui.  The  knife 
went  through  his  arm  ;  and  so  deadly  was  the 


force  by  which  it  was  guided,  that  it  itil!  He- 
scended,  and  inflicted  a  slight  aoratch  on  Regi- 
nald's shoulder 

War-Eagle  spiang  like  a  tiger  from  the 
ground,  and  with  one  blow  of  hia  tremendous 
war-olub  dashed  the  ruffian  to  the  earth ;  then 
turning  suddenly  hia  angry  glance  upon  the  two 
other  Indians,  he  asked  if  they  had  any  part  in 
Tarb6'a  plot.  Neither  had  stirred  from  his 
seat,  and  both  declared  they  had  known  nothing 
of  hia  intention.  It  was  well  for  Ihem  Ihin  i> 
chief  believed  them,  for  this  act  of  vile  treacucry 
had  aroused  all  the  slumb^-'iug  Are  within  him, 
and  the  vein*  started  liko  blue  cords  upon  bis 
temples. 

Reginald's  hrs  impulse,  when  he  jumped 
upon  his  feet,  wau  to  hasten  to  Uw  wounded 
youth,  whose  feature?  were  now  lighted  up  by 
a  smile  of  happiness.  "  Tell  me,  my  bravo 
generous  boy,  are  you  much  hurt !" 

" No,"  said  he :  "I  should  have  been  hurt 
if  the  War- Eagle's  camp  had  been  stained  with 
the  blood  of  his  white  brother." 

The  sturdy  guide  himself  could  not  n\.<rraa 
his  admiration  of  this  gallant  hoy's       "lict 
who  now  stood  looking  intently  < '^n    ^  ur 
Eagle,   hia  features  animated   by  "xoitenioot 
and  by  pride,  and  the  knife  atill  hxr  I  up  to  the 
very  handle  in  his  arm. 

••  War- Eagle,"  sai'1  Dap.i't-'  "the  Lei,ap^ 
are  men, — their  boys  are  «  ,i  .  « :  that  dog  is 
not  a  Lenape,"  he  addi  t,  ^i  lUuig  to  the  pros- 
trate body  of  Tarh( . 

"  Tah-Delamali'iiot,"*  said  the  chief  indig- 
nantly. The  youth  no>y  moving  a  ttep  forward, 
came  before  iiis  chief  with  an  air  of  modest 
dignity,  and  slowly  drew  the  reeking  knif*-  from 
his  arm,  while  a  Mream  of  blood  gubhed  from 
the  wound  ;  not  a  muscle  of  his  frame  trembled, 
not  a  feature  varied  its  expression,  a.s  he  said 
in  a  voice  of  musical  gentleness,  "  War-Eagle, 
will  Wingenund  allow  his  grandson  now  to  bear 
his  namel" 

"  Wingenund  P'  said  War-Eagle,  looking  upon 
him  with  afl'cctionate  pride,  "  the  chiefs  at  the 
Council-flro  shall  know  that  the  blood  of  the 
well- beloved  still  flows  in  a  young  warrior's 
veins." 

"  My  good  friend,"  said  the  guide  to  the  chief, 
"  you  havo  no  time  to  lose,  the  lad  will  bleed  to 
death !" 

Reginald  sprang  forward,  and  closing  as  he 
best  could  the  gaping  wound,  bound  hia  hand- 
kerchief lightly  over  It. 

There  was,  indeed,  no  time  to  be  lost ;  for  the 
blood  bad  flowed  more  freely  than  his  youthful 
frame  could  endure.  A  painful  dizziness  came 
over  him ;  and  murmuring  almost  inaudibly 
"  The  White  Warrior  is  safe,  and  Wingenund 
is  linppy,"  he  fell  senseless  into  Reginald's  arms. 


*  TaasniiiniinL' :  a  kind  or  bread  mnrie  by  tlie  Delnwares 
fnr  Iciif!  jiiiirneys.  Ii  U  made  iil'  nmizc,  powdered  very 
fl- .   und  ii\vcvt;nvd  witli  iiiuple  sugar. 


»  •■''•,      hi  I'linueno*,"— "N'l.  h<»l«o  Wyn-idoi."  Thin 
•  ii/i'  t"   III  I  "'  'I      'eKlnn  to  i  a  of  Qhio,  und  the 

itrtb '"i  :i    n,  .    .niiylvnnia  1  I    ..  ii|H>ke  ■  dialect  of  the 
'  >'  '    ".  aad  .n   belter  known  by  llie  name  of  Humni; 
iuuy  ouinctlmes  hunted  with  the  Uelawara,  liy  wlioni 
tliey  were  designated  aa  above. 


•■m' 


:     '.,     . 

1  .. 

!' 

■  -v  ;•■«■ 

,H" 

■  X;    !■: 

'1  -11 ,; 

*'i  ' 

,'ii,; 

1* 

that  it  ttil!  At- 
•cratch  on  lU'gi- 

tiyer  from  th« 
hw  tremendous 
the  earth ;  then 
cu  upon  the  two 
had  any  part  in 
iiirred  from  liis 
I  known  noihinj; 
iir  them  Ihiu  i 
of  vile  treauiiery 
fire  within  him, 
oorda  upon  his 

hen  he  jumped 
to  Um  wounded 
>w  lighted  up  by 
me,  my  bravo 
rt!" 

have  been  hurt 
sen  stained  with 

)uld  not  repr>  tM 
boy's     ■  nl'iit 

Illy    I  '>oii     ^  ui 
by   "XcitpnidDt 

I  tut'  I  up  to  the 

'    "the  Leiisp^ 

1 :  that  dog  is 

i.ig  to  the  proB- 

Ihe  chief  indig- 
g  a  utep  Torward, 
ti  ail  of  modest 
eking  knife  from 
Hid  gutilicd  from 
frame  trembled, 
isioii,  as  he  said 
18,  "  War-Eagle, 
laon  now  to  bear 

gle,  looking  upon 
he  chiefs  at  the 
he  blood  of  the 
^oung  warrior's 

uido  to  the  chief, 
lad  will  bleed  to 

d  closing  as  he 
)ound  his  hand- 
be  lost ;  for  the 
an  his  youthful 
dizziness  camo 
Imost  inaudibly 
and  Wingenund 
[Reginald's  arms. 


a  Wyn-idoi."  Thin 
.1  of  Qhib,  iind  thv 
ike  a  dialect  ol'  thi; 

name  of  Huronii; 
Haware,  by  whom 


THE  PRAIRIR-DIRD. 


91 


1 


(  MvPTER  VII. 

Ooulalnlnf  mom  parllcuinn  of  the  hUlory  nf  the  two 
I)«lnwam  nnil  c>r  Bnpllnte.  The  latler  returnii  wllh 
Reginald  lo  Mouihanna,  Ibe  raildance  of  Oolunel 
Rpindon, 

"  I  rcA*  ho  will  A\(i '"  -aid  Reginald  in  a  tone 
of  the  deepest  grief,  ns  Ik  ^toopf^d  over  the  in- 
animate form  of  the  woumli^d  boy 

"Uie  !"  said  the  Wiir-Kaglo,  iiltnost  fiercely, 
"yes,  he  will  die!  hii  t\ol  i  y  the  bur  nf  vndcr 
serpent,"  pointing  to  tlif  h<ii>  'f  the  Wyandu 
"  he  will  die  when  tlipOro.H  H\uril  "rders  it ;  bui 
before  he  dies,  the  iiiiir'I»'rers  of  li  -  f.i'  fir  shall 
hear  his  war-whoop!  ''■'  tomahaw,.  ill  be 
red  in  their  blood  ;  tbnir  m-alpn  shall  hang  at  his 
bell !  Ihen  Wingenund  may  go  to  his  ancient 
people  in  the  happy  hunting  fields !" 

"My  brother,"  snid  Reginald  earnestly,  and 
still  supporting  the  insensible  frame  of  Winge- 
nund, "  do  not  lead  this  youth  to  shed  the  white 
man's  blood  !  He  cannot  call  back  those  who 
are  gone  !  We  have  a  hook  which  tlio  Great 
Spirit  gave  to  our  forefathers  ;  it  spealis  tlis 
own  words,  and  He  tells  us,  'Vengeance  is 
mine ;'  and  Ho  also  tells  us  that  if  we  would 
please  Him,  we  must  forgive  those  who  have 
injured  us  ;  His  arrows  are  very  sharp ;  Uia 
anger  is  fierce ;  His  justice  is  sure.  Leave  Him 
to  punish  those  had  men,  and  teach  the  '  wcU- 
bcloved'  to  be  the  white  man's  friend." 

For  a  minute  the  chief  seemed  buried  in  deep 
thought ;  then  suddenly  starting  from  his  reve- 
rie, ho  spoke  a  few  words  in  a  low  tone  to  one 
of  his  men,  who  instantly  moved  away,  and  dis- 
appeared in  the  forest. 

War-Kaf'"  then  replied  in  a  tone  ratheiAof 
melancholy  tiian  of  reproof,  "  The  Great  Spirit 
never  speaks  to  the  red  man  in  words  :  if  He  is 
angry.  Ho  thunders ;  if  He  is  pleased.  He  sends 
rain  and  sunshine,  to  make  the  corn  and  fruits 
to  grow,  and  sweet  grass  to  fatten  the  deer ;  my 
brother  says  the  Great  Spirit  has  spoken  plainly 
to  the  white  man  in  words,  and  that  those 
words  are  painted  in  a  book.  War-Eagle  be- 
lieves it,  because  my  brother's  tongue  is  not 
forked ;  but  he  would  ask, — Did  those  white 
men,  who  came  in  the  night  like  wolves  to  the 
couch  of  the  fawn,  who  murdered  the  father, 
the  kindred,  the  little  sisters  of  Wingenund, — 
did  those  men  hear  the  Great  Spirit's  words !" 
"My  brother,"  said  Reginald,  "there  are 
among  white  men  many  wolves  and  serpents  : 
men  whose  hands  are  bloody,  and  their  tongue 
forked.  The  Great  Spirit  does  not  forbid  to 
punish,  or  even  to  kill  such  men,  in  defence  of 
ourwUves,  our  wigwams,  our  children,  or  our 
friend;  He  is  not  angry  with  War-Eagle  for 
striking  down  that  Huron  whose  hand  was 
raised  to  shed  his  brother's  blood  ;  but  when 
the  grass  of  many  seasons  has  grown  over  the 
graves  of  those  who  were  injured,  then  the 
Great  Spirit  commands  man  to  let  his  anger 
sleep,  to  bury  his  hatchet,  and  to  forgive." 

"  It  may  be  so,"  said  W*r-Eagle  gravely, 
"  llic  Good  Father  in  the  Western  Hunting- 
ground  has  said  the  same;  Olitipa,  whose  voice 
la  like  the  mocking-bird,  and  who  speaks  only 
liuih.  *lip  has  spoken  the  same  ;  but  it  is  very 
c,»Ti,  War- Eagle  cannot  see  it." 

"N\ho  IS  (tie  Prairie-bird!"  inquired  Regi- 
nald, wliose  curiosity  had  twice  been  excited  by 
the  mention  of  this  extraordinary  name. 


Before  the  ohiaf  could  reply,  the  Indian,  whom 
he  had  sent,  returned  with  a  mess  made  from 
several  loaves,  herbs,  and  roots,  which  he  had 
bruised  and  reduced  to  a  kind  of  glutinous  pulp ; 
War- Eagle  now  took  off  the  liamlagn  from  the 
youth's  arm  ;  ader  examining  it  carefully,  and 
applying  some  of  the  above  mixtures  to  both  tho 
nrilices  of  the  wound,  he  Lound  it  again,  more 
strongly  and  skilfully  than  before  ;  then  taking 
him  in  his  arms,  as  if  he  had  been  a  little  child, 
he  carried  him  down  to  the  rivulet ;  and  by  dint 
'  '  '•athing  his  temples  and  rubbing  forcibly  hia 
I  Mi'ds  and  feel,  soon  restored  the  luspendeil 
ai  imation. 

'Vhen  he  was  recovered  far  a.i  to  be  able 
to  s(.f  iW.  Reginald,  sitting  do\'  n  Sv  him,  said  a 
thousand  !'  'tif  thiiifrs  to  hini  ich  as  were 
prompted  b-  the  gratitude  of  u  g  'tous  heart. 
While  they  were  conversing,  tl.  u'uido  ilrewr 
<r  to  the  1  lef ;  and  pointing  to  md  body  of 
I.  Wyaiidnt,  which  still  I  ly  where  he  Imd  Ml- 
en      «id,  "  He   ■<  surely  deail !" 

■  is  so,"  replied  the  other  gravely,  "  whefl 
Wai  ,i|{le  is  anury  he  does  nut  strike  his  ene- 
my's ibrehead  twice." 

Tilt:  guide  now  turned  over  tho  bod  and 
secinit  that  the  iron  oint  of  the  war-cli.  had 
entcietl  jum  ibove  ih.  eyes,  and  had  sunk  deep 
into  thu  bra  he  k  icvv  that  instant  de.ith  inist 
have  ensued  Tin  chief  calling  the  two  In- 
dians, di'Bireii  them  to  bury  tho  body  where  it 
woulil  be  safe  frill  i  wolves  and  buzzards,  "but." 
ho  added  sternly  "  let  nut  the  spot  be  n  irked 
for  his  kinflrc(t  n  died  like  a  dog,  and  nona 
should  lament  tun    ' 

As  they  turned  ivay  to  execute  these  orders, 
the  guide  observt  <!  to  !he  chief  '•  that  Huron 
has  not  been  long  w  'h  the  War-Eagle." 

"True,— I  It  hov  does  the  Grand-H&cha 
know  it  V 

"  His  eye  has  been  n  him  more  than  once  ; 
Grande-H4ehe  sees,  li  ho  can  hold  his  tongue." 
"Grando-Hftohe  is  warrior,"  replied  the 
chief:  "  he  has  seen  m  ny  things ;  he  has  talk- 
ed with  the  wise  men ;  Uies  ho  know  why  yoa 
Huron  wished  to  kih  tlu  vuung  white  bravo  !" 

"  Ho  does,"  said  Grai  <le-Hftche ;  but  as  he 
did  not  of  himself  state  \^  lat  he  knew,  it  would 
have  been  contrary  to  he  usages  of  Indian 
courtesy  to  question  him    irther. 

Baptiste  now  diverting  the  conversation  to 
another  topic,  said,  "  It  is  singular  that  War- 
Eagle,  on  a  war-path  far  from  hia  village,  should 
have  only  strangers  with  nim,  excepting  the 
youth  who  is  wounded  !" 
"  What  means  the  Grand  H4che  1"  ' 

"He  means,"  replied  the  guide,  "that  the 
other  two,  now  gone  to  bury  the  Huron,  aro 
Southern  men* — they  are  not  Lenapc." 

"  Grande-Hiche  has  ears  and  eyes  open — 
how  can  he  know  that  he  speaks  truth  ?"  said 
the  chief. 

"  Because  he  ha»  eyes  and  ears ;"  replied  the 
guide.  "  Does  War-Eagle  think  that  Grande- 
H&che  has  hunted  twenty  years  among  the  red 
nations,  and  knows  not  yet  the  mocassin  and 


•  Soiithcrnmen— In  the  Dolnwore  language  Cha  otia- 
no  or  Shawiinii— known  to  the  Americans  aa  "Shnw- 
necii."  This  powerful  tribe  were  gonernlly  In  alllanec 
with  iho  Lenajie,  iind  Inhabited  the  country  on  Ihclr  west- 
ern frontier.  About  the  time  of  our  tnle,  they  were  very 
niimernus  on  tho  banks  of  the  Mitaklnguni  imd  of  the 
Wabiuih  river. 


91) 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


tongue  of  a  Shawanon  1  I  knew  tbeni  at  a 
glHnL-e,"  he  added,  with  a  shrewd  smde,  "as 
well  as  I  knew  the  War-Eajile  in  the  l)atteau, 
though  both  he  and  they  have  put  un  their  facea 
the  paint  of  the  Mengwe."* 

"  Grande- lliiche  speaks  truth,"  replied  the 
chief,  dryly,  without  showing'  the  surprise  and 
annoyance  that  he  felt  at  the  penetration  of  the 
guide.  "  The  men  are  Shawanons,  they  hunt 
with  the  Lenape,  beyond  th^  jreat  river — they 
are  brothers." 

So  saying,  he  broke  off  the  conversation,  and 
turning  towards  Wingenund.  saw  that  he  was 
talking  as  earnestly  and  freely  with  Reginald  as 
if  they  had  been  long  intimate ;  while  he  con- 
templated this  friendly  intercourse  with  a  smile 
of  satisfaction,  the  guide  felt  himself  called 
upon  to  remind  his  companion  that  the  sun  was 
getting  low,  that  they  had  yet  some  miles  to 
Walk,  and  that  the  colonel  would  be  anxioDS 
and  impatient. 

"  True,"  said  Reginald,  springing  up,  "  I  must 
take  leave  of  my  brother,  and  of  my  young  pre- 
server ;  bat  we  shall  meet  again  ;  we  will  hunt 
together,  and  be  friends." 

"  Let  it  be  so,"  said  the  lad,  with  an  ardour 
which  he  cari.-d  not  to  conceal ;  "  and  Winge- 
nund  will  tell  Prairie-Bird  that  the  white  warrior 
who  drew  War-Eagle  from  the  deep  water,  will 
come  to  see  her,  and  she  will  thank  hlrn." 

While  the  boy  was  speaking,  Ihf;  chief  turned 
away,  and  busied  himself  in  fastening  a  thong- 
halter  firmly  to  the  head  oi  Nekimi,  which  he 
again  led  to  his  new  r^iaster. 

Reginald  now  iinuid  from  his  waist  the  silver 
buckled  belt  v.iih  the  couteau-de-chasse  which 
ft  supported,  and  buckling  it  round  the  youth, 
he  sp.iu,  «'  Wingenund  must  wear  this,  and  must 
But  forget  his  while  friend." 

The  boy's  eyes  sparkled  with  pleasure,  as  he 
received  this  gilt ;  but  be  was  still  too  weak  to 
stand,  and  he  only  murmured,  in  a  low  voice, 
"  Wing'^nund  will  not  forget." 

The  v^.iief  now  taking  the  guide  aside,  said  to 
him,  in  his  own  language,  "  How  is  my  white 
brother  called  1" 

"  I  call  him  '  Master  Reginald.'  "t 

After  one  or  two  ludicrous  attempts  at  an  imi- 
tation, War-Eagle  shook  his  head,  saying,  "  It 
is  not  good— may  his  Leoape  friend  call  him 
•Netis.'" 

As  soon  as  Reginald  was  informed  of  what 
had  passed,  and  of  the  meaning  of  bis  new 
name,  he  accepted  it  with  pleasure,  and  Winge- 
nund repeated  it  again  and  again  as  our  hero 
bid  him  farewell. 

War-Eagle  insisted  upon  accompanying  him, 
and  leading  Nekimi  through  the  forest,  until 
they  reached  the  broad  wheel  track  which  pass- 
ed Colonel  Brandon's  house,  and  thence  led 
through  other  clearings  to  the  village  of  Mari- 
etta. As  they  went  along,  Reginald  desired 
Baptiste  in  a  whisper  to  talk  with  the  chief,  and 
endeavoured  to  draw  from  him,  what  article  of 
dress,  ornament,  or  use,  he  would  most  value, 

*  M'!ii),'\vc,  or  Mingocs,— the  Delinvnrn  nniiie  f(>r  tlmne 
Indlunt  wild  rvaldiii  chiefly  in  llic  norllicrn  St.'itc.'t  of  iho 
Union,  nnil  who  urc  bclli.Tknoivii  im  the  "  lrc«iu()i.<." 

t  "Mustir  Itoginiild,"  inishl  wx'll  piizzlo  tlio  cliief,  ns 
there  in  no  liiiur  H  in  the  Deliiwitrc  luntjuuge,  Ihciugh 
(onie  of  them  cnntrive  to  pronounct'  it. 

"  .Nells"  signllies  in  tlieir  lonKue,  "  ii  Ij-ustcU  friend," 
"one  tu  \Wioui  all  secruls  arc  conlidud." 


as  he  was  anxious  to  make  his  Indian  brother 
a  present ;  and  the  guide,  by  skilfully  manceu- 
vring  bis  conversation,  soon  learned  that  War- 
Eagle  had,  on  this  last  excursion,  lost  his  rifle, 
and  that  he  was  also  short  of  ammunition. 
'J'hey  now  emerged  from  the  forest  upon  the 
great  road,  if  it  might  be  so  c  illed,  leading  to 
Marietta;  and  the  Indian  putti.  g  the  halter  of 
Nekimi  into  Reginald's  band,  said  that  he  would 
return  to  his  camp.  Our  hero,  taking  him  by 
the  hand,  said,  "  Netis  wishes  to  see  his  brother 
at  this  spot  to-morrow  at  noun." 

"  War-Eagle  will  come,"  was  the  brief  reply ; 
and  shakmg  both  the  whitemen  cordially  by 
the  hand,  he  turned  and  disappeaied  among  the 
trees. 

Reginald  and  the  guide  were  within  a  few 
miles  of  Colonel  Brandon's  house ;  but  they 
could  not  proceed  very  fast,  owing  to  the  evi- 
dent reluctance  shown  by  Nekimi  to  follow  his 
new  master ;  he  neighed,  snorted,  jumped,  and 
played  all  manner  cf  pranks  in  his  endeavour  to 
get  loose ;  but  this  War-Eagle  had  foremen, 
and  the  tough  halter  of  undressed  hide  was  well 
enough  secured  to  defy  all  his  efforts  at  escape. 

"This  has  been  a  strange  day  of  adventures, 
Baptiste,"  said  Reginald  ;  "  it  has  been  to  me 
one  of  the  pleasantest  of  my  life !" 

"  Why,  Master  Reginald,  it  has  been  a  day  of 
events,  such  as  they  are ;  you  have  been  twice 
at  the  outside  edge  of  t'other  world,  with  water 
and  cold  iron." 

"  Oh,  there  was  not  much  barm  in  the  water," 
said  Reginald,  laughing ,  "  had  it  not  been  for 
the  knock  which  one  of  the  horses  gave  me  on 
th«hcad  ;  but  that  villanous  attempt  of  the  Hu- 
ron makes  me  shudder ; — to  offer  a  man  food, 
and  stab  him  while  he  is  taking  it !  I  thought 
such  a  thing  was  unknown  in  Indian  history." 

"  It  is,  almost,"  said  the  guide.  "  But  a  Hu- 
ron—and a  Dacotah!"  he  added,  bitterly, — 
"  would  murder  a  brother  to  gratify  revenge." 

"  But  I  had  never  injured  him,  Baptiste." 

"  His  —'mory  is  better  than  yours,  Master 
Reginald.  He  and  his  brother  were  two  of  the 
leading  warriors  in  that  unfortunate  affair 
where  St.  Clair  was  beat  by  the  Ingians,  upon 
the  north  fork  of  the  Miami.  I  was  there,  too, 
and  the  '  Doctor's '  pills  did  some  sarvice — but 
not  much  to  signify,  neither.  Colonel  Brandon 
did  all  that  a  man  could  do,  but,  at  last,  he  was 
forced  back.  Well,  that  Tarho  and  his  brother, 
first  in  the  pursuit,  killed  two  of  our  poor  fel- 
lows, and  were  scalping  'em,  when  the  Colonel 
called  out  to  'em,  and  fired.  He  killed  Tarhe's 
brother  dead.  I  sce'd  it  all ;  and  I  took  a  long 
squint  with  the  Doctor  at  Tarhe,  which  only 
lamed  his  arm  a  bit ;  for,  you  see.  Master  Regi- 
nald, I  was  a  long  ways  off;  and  a  chap  don't 
shoot  quite  so  fine  when  he's  a  retreatin'  double 
quick,  with  a  few  hundred  Redskins  yellin'  in 
his  rear.  However,  that  Tarhe  has  been  more 
than  once  down  at  Marietta,  and  round  the 
neighbours'  clearins ;  and  he  knowed  you,  Mas- 
ter Reginald,  just  as  well  as  a  Kentucky  hog 
knows  an  acorn." 

"Now  I  understand  it,  so  far,  Baptiste.  Put 
if  the  fellow  wanted  to  take  my  life,  why  did 
he  not  hide  in  the  laurel  thicket,  and  shoot  me 
as  I  passed !  Why  did  be  make  the  attempt 
where  my  death  was  sure  to  be  reveii4>-ed  !" 

"Now,  Master  Reginald,  you   are  asking  a 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


98 


ndian  brother 
fully  manoeu- 
led  that  War- 
,  lost  his  rifle, 
ammunitiun. 
rest  upon  the 
led,  leading  to 
;  the  halter  of 
that  he  would 
aking  him  by 
lee  his  brother 

he  brief  reply ; 
I  cordially  by 
ted  among  the 

within  a  few 
ise;  but  they 
ng  to  the  evi- 
li  to  follow  his 
j,  jumped,  and 
g  endeavour  to 
had  foreseen, 
1  hide  was  well 
rurta  at  escape, 
of  adventures, 
as  been  to  me 
!" 

i  been  a  day  of 
ave  been  twice 
irld,  with  water 

(1  in  the  water," 
it  not  been  for 
368  gave  me  on 
smptof  the  Hu- 
fer  a  man  food, 
it !     I  thought 
idian  history." 
).     "  But  a  Hu- 
ied,  bitterly,— 
atify  revenge." 
I,  Baptiste." 
yours,  Master 
vere  two  of  the 
brtunate    affair 
e  Ingians,  upon 
was  there,  too, 
ne  sarvice — but 
Colonel  Brandon 
at  last,  he  was 
and  his  brother, 
of  our  poor  fel- 
hen  the  Colonel 
e  killed  Tarhe's 
id  I  took  a  long 
rhe,  which  only 
;e.  Master  Regi- 
nd  a  chap  don't 
retrealin"  double 
Iskins  yellin'  in 
has  been  more 
and  round  the 
owed  you,  Mas- 
i  Kentucky  hog 

,  Baptlste.  Put 
ny  life,  why  did 
t,  and  shoot  me 
ike  tht!  attempt 
I  reveiii't'd  !" 
u   are  asking  a 


poor  ignorant  crittur, — who  knows  nought  but 
a  little  hunlln',  and,  may  he,  knows  a  beaver- 
skin  from  a  hufTalo-hide, — all  the  ins  and  outs 
of  a  red  Ingian's  crooked  mind !  May  be,  he 
wanted  to  force  War-Eagle  into  shedding 
white-man's  blood.  I  saw  that  one  of  those 
Shawanons  was  up  to  his  game  ;  and  if  a  gen- 
eral skrimmage  had  come,  they'd  have  tried  to 
do  for  me.  Or,  perhaps,  when  he  found  his 
knife  so  convenient  to  the  back  of  your  neck, 
he  couldn't  lose  the  chance,  for  the  bad  spirit 
had  got  hold  of  him." 

"  By  heavens !"  cried  Reginald,  "  I  never  can 
sufficiently  admire  the  quickness,  and  the  heroic 
courage  of  that  boy,  Wingenund !  Did  you 
see,  Baptiste,  how  he  drew  that  great  knife 
iloiely  out  df  his  wounded  arm ;  and  bow  all 
the  time  he  smiled  upon  War-Eagle,  as  if  to 
show  him  that  he  despised  the  pain  V 

"  He  is  a  brave  youth,"  said  the  guide.  "  I 
know  the  stock  he  comes  from :  if  he  were  a 
coward,  the  grisly  bear  might  breed  sheep !" 

"  Pray  tell  me  something  of  his  parents,  and 
of  his  story.     Is  he  related  to  War-Eagle  1" 

"He  is,"  said  the  guide.  "They  are  the 
children  of  two  brothers.  War- Eagle  of  the 
eldest ;  Wingenund  of  the  youngest." 

"  Are  these  two  brothers  alive,  Baptiste  1" 

"No:  both  were  murdered  by  the  white 
men,  in  time  of  peace,  without  provocation. 
There  was  a  third  brother,  who,  happening  to 
be  absent  from  the  village  on  a  hunt,  escaped. 
He  has  now  gone  to  the  far- west,  beyond  the 
great  river.  Both  the  War-Eagle  and  the  boy 
are  called  his  sons ;  and  the  latter,  as  he  told 
us  to-day,  lives  in  his  lodge." 

"  Then  all  these  three  brothers  were  the  chil- 
dren of  Wingenund  1" 

"  Yes." 

"And  who  was  hel" 

"One  of  the  old* Lenape :— first  in  council 
and  foremost  in  the  fight !  I  remember  him 
well  when  I  was  a  boy,"  said  the  guide,  warm- 
ing with  his  subject.  "  He  taught  me  to  fol- 
low a  trail,  and  to  traVel  in  the  woods,  with  no 
other  guide  than  the  wind,  the  stars,  and  the 
bark  of  the  trees ;  and  before  I  was  aa  old  as 
that  boy,  his  grandson,  be  lent  me  his  rifle  to 
sboot  the  first  Dacotah  as  ever  I  killed." 

"  What  was  the  party,  Baptiste  I"  said  Regi- 
nald (anxious  to  keep  the  guide  from  the  sub- 
ject of  the  Dacotahs),  "  what  party  was  it  that 
committed  the  atrocious  murder  upon  the  In- 
dians in  time  of  peace  1" 

"Why,  Master  Reginald,  though  you  were 
hut  a  youngster,  don't  you  remember  hearing 
that  twelve  or  fourteen  years  ago,  a  party  of 
white  men,  led  by  Williamson,  Harvey,  and 
some  other  rough  chaps  from  the  Kentucky 
side,  fell  upon  a  village  of  friendly  Indians  on 
the  hanks  of  Tuscarawas  river,  and  murdered 
all  they  found,  man,  woman,  and  child  1  Some 
of  these  poor  Redskins  had  been  made  Chris- 
tians, and  were  called  Moravians ;  and  their 
village,  as  was  destroyed,  was  called  by  some 
outlandish  name,  too  long  by  half  for  me  to 
speak  or  to  remember.*  They  had  given  over 
Iheir  own  nat'ral  life  of  smoking,  hunting,  and 
fighting,  and  did  nothing  but  plant,  and  sow, 
and  pray  !  And,  after  all,  that's  the  way  they 
was  served.  Master  Reginald." 


'''The  vlllnRe  was  called  Gnaden-Hatten—" tents,"  or 
"  Mbios  af  srace." 


"  Horrible  and  disgraceful  cruelty !"  said  the 
young  man  :  and  rather  thinking  aloud,  than 
addressing  his  companion,  he  added,  "  It  is  no 
wonder  that  the  Indians  receivs  so  unwillingly 
Christian  precepts,  when  they  have  such  exam- 
ples of  Christian  practice.  1  am  not  surprised 
that  War-Eagle  finds  it  hard  to  forgive  such  in- 
juries." 

"  And  yet  you  are  surprised,  Master  Regi- 
nald," said  the  guide,  in  a  deep  voice,  almost 
hoarse  from  repressed  emotion,  "  that  /  do  not 
forgive  the  Dacotah  1  Did  he  not  burn  the  log 
hut  where  I  was  born  and  raised  1  Did  he  not 
murder  those  who  gave  me  birth  1  Did  he  not 
drive  me  out,  a  child,  into  the  woods,  to  live  by 
l>erries,  or  wild  fruits,  or  what  I  could  find  or 
kill  1  Is  not  my  father's  scalp  (not  half  reven- 
ged !)  now  hanging  before  a  Dacotah  lodge ! 
Oh  !  let  me  come  but  within  rifle  lange  of  the 
Throat-cutter,*  and  if  he  comes  off  with  a  whole 
skin,  I  will  forgive  him  !" 

Our  hero,  seeing  that  farther  discussion  would 
only  increase  an  excitement  which  already  mas- 
tered his  companion's  self-control,  said  to  him 
kindly,  "  Well,  Baptiste,  it  must  be  owned  that 
you  have  received  from  these  people  deep,  irre- 
parable wrong !  You  are  a  man,  and  would 
not  pay  them  in  their  own  base  coin,  by  killing 
one  of  their  squaws  or  children  ;  but  if  it  is  ev- 
er yoiir  fortune  to  meet  them  in  a  fair  stand-up 
fight,  when  I  am  with  you,  then  you  shall  see 
that  I  can  stand  by  a  friend,  and  shaie  in  his 
just  feelings  of  resentment." 

"  I  know  It — I  know  it,  Master  Reginald," 
said  the  guide,  grasping  the  hand  extended  to 
him  ;  and  having  now  recovered  an  equanim- 
ity which  nothing  but  the  Dacotah  subject  ever 
disturbed,  he  added, 

"  If  you  and  I  were  to  take  a  summer-hunt 
towards  the  mountains,  with  that  light-limbed 
War-Eagle,  who  has  the  eyes,  and  ears,  and 
spring  of  a  painter,t  we  might  p'raps  bring  in  a 
handso.Tie  load  o'  skins,  and  may  be,  pay  oflfthe 
Throat-cutters  an  old  debt  or  two." 

"  It  is  more  likely  than  you  imagine,  Bap- 
tiste, that  we  shall  make  an  excursion  to  the 
West,  this  spring  ;  for  my  father  told  me  the 
other  day — but  sec,  there  he  is,  with  Lucy  on 
his  arm,  and  Aunt  Mary,  and  Wolf  by  her  side  !" 

As  he  said  this,  the  yfiung  man  bounded  for- 
ward, and  in  a  moment  vas  in  the  r^idst  of 
them,  kissing  his  sister,  shaking  his  father  and 
Aunt  Mary  aflectionately  by  the  hand,  and  pat- 
ting Wolfs  great  shaggy  head. 

"  Dear  Reginald !  what  has  kept  you  so 
long?"  said  Lucy,  reproachfully;  where  can 
you  have  been  1  Why,  your  clothes  are  all  soil- 
ed ;  and  see,  papa,"  she  added  turning  deadly 
pale;  "there  is  blood  upon  his  hunting-shirt 
and  upon  his  cheek !" 

"  What  a  little  coward  art  thou,"  said  Regi- 
nald, "  to  be  the  daughter  of  a  soldier  !  Why, 
Lucy,  the  few  drops  of  blood  upon  my  clothes 
must  surely  have  coint,  from  your  cheeks,  which 
are  as  pale  as  a  magnolia  flower !  Hackee  Lucy, 
I  must  do  something  to  drive  the  rosy  current 
back  to  its  proper  channel ;  come  here,  girl :" 


*  Every  Iiultnn  tribe  has  its  peculiar  mark,  or  sign ;  among 
nil  the  nations  of  the  rni^tvest,  the  Sioux,  or  Dacotahs, 
are  ilcstgnMcd  hy  passing  the  hand  across  the  throat  as  If 
cutting  it. 
t  A  Panther  is  so  called  by  the  western  liuutarg. 


/ 


34 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


and  bending  her  bead  aside,  he  whispered  some- 
thinK  in  her  ear. 

Never  was  the  effect  of  magic  more  rapid, 
or  more  potent ;  for  in  an  instant  the  obedi- 
ent blood  rushed  to  the  fair  girl's  cheek,  suffu- 
sing, at  the  same  time,  her  neck  and  temples 
wiih  the  same  glowing  hue ;  casting  upon  her 
brother  a  look  ai  once  playful  and  appealing,  she 
pinched  his  ear  between  her  tiny  fingers  till  he 
fairly  begged  pardon,  and  promised  not  to  do  su 
again. 

As  it  was  now  evident  that  Reginald  was 
not  much  hurt,  Lucy  turned  her  eyes  towards 
the  hunter,  who  approached,  leading  Nekimi, 
still  snorting,  prancing,  and  curvetting,  at  the 
full  length  of  his  laryette.  "  Baptiste,"  said  the 
Colonel,  "  where  have  you  found  that  wild,  un- 
tamed animaU" 

"  He  belongs,"  said  the  hunter,  "  to  Master 
Reginald." 

The  Colonel  looked  to  his  son  fur  an  explana- 
tion, who  giving  an  arm  to  his  sister,  while  the 
Colonel  escorted  Aunt  Mary,  turned  homeward, 
and  narrated,  as  they  went,  the  events  described 
in  this  and  the  foregoing  chapter. 


,       CHAPTER  VIII. 

Contoinintr  a  Sketch  of  Mocwhanne.— Reifinald  introdncsa 
hif  Siiter  to  the  two  Delaware!. 

The  day  following  that  on  which  the  events 
related  in  the  preceding  pages  occurred,  there 
was  an  assemblage  more  than  usually  numer- 
ous, gathered  in  and  around  the  capacious  store 
of  David  Muir,  in  Marietta:  immediately  in 
front  of  his  door  was  a  small  party,  who,  from 
their  bearing  and  appearance,  might  be  easily 
recognised  as  leading  persons  in  the  little  com- 
munity. In  the  midst  of  them  was  a  roughly- 
dressed  country  lad,  whose  haggard  appearance 
indicated  wretchedness  or  fatigue,  or  both;  near 
the  group  stood  his  horse  reeking  with  sweat, 
and  showing  that  the  messenger,  for  such  he 
was,  had  not  spared  the  spurs  on  the  road. 
Many  and  eager  were  the  questions  put  to  him, 
and  the  countenances  of  his  auditors  evinced  no 
ordinary  degree  of  interest  in  his  replies ;  sever- 
al women,  and  a  dozen  or  two  of  boys  and  girls, 
made  repeated  endeavours  to  penetrate  into  this 
important  circle ;  and  having  contrived  to  over- 
hear a  disjointed  word,  here  and  there,  such  as 
"Indian,"  "scalped,"  "rifle,"  &c.,  they  slunk 
away,  one  by  one,  to  spread  it  abroad  through 
the  village,  that  a  neighbouring  .settlement  had 
been  attacked  by  a  large  body  of  Indians,  armed 
with  rifles  and  tomahawks ;  and  that  every  man, 
woman,  and  child,  excepting  this  messenger,  who 
had  escaped,  was  scalped ! 

We  will,  however,  introduce  the  reader  into 
the  centre  of  the  above-mentionad  group,  and 
detail  to  him  the  substance  of  the  news  which 
created  so  much  excitement. 

It  appears  that  on  the  preceding  day,  two 
brothers,  named  Hervey,  were  riding  homeward, 
after  nttenSinga  marriage,  at  a  small  .settlement 
twenty  miles  to  the  northward  of  Marietta :  they 
were  not  above  half  a  mile  in  advance  of  several 
other  men,  abio  returning  from  the  marriage; 
both  were  armed  with  riflgs,  having  been  shoot- 
ing at  a  target  for  a  wager,  when  on  a  sudden,  a 
single  Indian,  uttering  a  loud  war-whoop,  sprang 
from  a  thicket  by  the  road,  and  at  one  stroke  of 


his  war-club  felled  the  elder  brother  to  the  earth, 
before  (he  second  could  come  up  to  his  a.>sist- 
ance,  the  same  Indian  aimed  a  sweeping  blow 
at  his  bead  with  the  bu't-end  of  his  rifle ;  the 
younger  Hervey  warded  the  blow  also  with  his 
rifle,  but  it  fell  with  such  force  that  both  barrels 
were  broken  ofl'from  the  stocks;  with  the  rapid- 
ity of  lightning,  the  Indian  struck  him  heavily  on 
the  head,  and  he  fell  stunned  from  his  horse.  A 
few  minutes  afterward,  he  recovered,  and  found 
some  of  his  friends  standing  over  him ;  his  un- 
fortunate brother  lay  dead  and  scalped  at  his 
side ;  his  horse  and  the  Indian  had  disappeared. 
Several  young  men  dashed  off  immediately  in 
pursuit,  and  tracked  the  hoofs  successfully  until 
the  fugitive  had  entered  the  hardy  and  stony  bed 
of  a  rivulet  falling  i.ito  the  Muskingum;  hence 
all  farther  search  proved  unsuccessful,  and  they 
returned  dispirited  to  their  companions. 

It  was  long  since  so  daring  an  outrage  had 
been  committed  in  the  Territory;  seldom  was  it 
that  the  Redskins  would  attack  white  men  in 
open  day,  unless  they  were  greatly  superior  in 
numbers ;  but  for  a  single  Indian  to  fall  upon  two 
armed  whites,  killin";  one  and  leaving  the  other 
for  dead,  almost  within  call  of  his  friends,  was 
an  instance  of  audacity  to  which  the  oldest  hunt- 
er could  scarcely  lemember  a  parallel ;  it  was 
evident  also  that  the  savage  had  been  aware  of 
a  party  of  whites  being  at  hand,  otherwise  he 
would  certainly  have  sliot  one  brother  before  he 
attacked  the  other;  but,  avoiding  the  discharge 
of  his  rifle,  he  had  eflected  his  purpose  with  a 
war-club. 

Another  striking  circumstance  was  the  clear 
evidence  aflbrded  that  the  killing  of  the  elder 
Hervey  was  an  act  of  personal  revenge ;  because 
the  younger  brother,  when  knocked  from  his 
horse,  had  fallen  helpless  at  the  Indian's  feet; 
and  the  latter,  purpusely  to  show  that  he  had 
spared  his  life  and  scalp,  had  struck  a  knife 
through  the  lappet  of  his  coat  into  the  ground, 
with  force  enough  to  bury  it  up  to  the  hall. 
Four  or  five  of  the  best  hutiters  had  recommen- 
ced the  pursuit ;  and  although  they  once  struck 
the  trail  of  a  man  on  foot  evidently  running  from 
them,  they  were  again  baflied  by  the  river,  and 
returned  to  the  settlement. 

Such  was  the  sum  of  the  messenger's  intelli- 
gence, which  caused,  as  can  easily  be  imagined, 
no  little  sensation  in  Marietta  and  the  neigh- 
bouring districts. 

"  I  know  some  of  the  worst  o'  them  Redskia 
devils,"  said  a  bulky  young  man,  whose  counte- 
nance betrayed  violent  passions,  and  strong 
symptoms  of  free  indulgence  in  David  Muir'a 
"fire-water;"  "tell  me  what  was  this  Ingian 
likel  how  did  Dick  Hervey  describe  himT' 

"He  hadn't  over  much  time  to  look  at  him,'^ 
said  the  messenger,  "  afore  he  was  sent  to  sleep; 
but  he  says  he  was  a  very  tall,  powerful  chap, 
streaked  over  the  face  with  black." 

"  Was  he  a  young  un  or  an  old  un  1" 

"A  voung  un,  and  active  as  a  deer,  or  lie 
couldn  t  have  knocked  those  two  Herveys  off. 
their  criiturs,  as  a  man  knocks  ofl'a  corncob  with 
an  ash  plant." 

"  1  wish  I  had  him  here,"  said  the  young  gi- 
ant, shutting  a  hand  as  heavy  and  larfje  as  a 
shoulder  of  mutton.  "  I'd  give  him  a  real  Ken- 
tucky hug." 

None  of  the  bystanders  seemed  able  to  form 
any  guess  as  to  who  the  perpetrator  of  this  bold 
outrage  might  be;  it  was  resolved,  however,  to 
take  all  possible  measures  for  his  discov>ery :  a 


'^ 


I 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


ts 


'  to  the  earth, 
to  bis  a.Nsist- 
^eeping  blow 
bis  rifle;  the 
also  with  his 
t  both  barrels 
ith  the  rapid- 
m  heavily  oa 
liis  horse.  A 
!d,  and  found 
liirn;  his  un- 
lalped  at  his 
disappeared, 
mediately  in 
;ssfully  until 
nd  stony  bed 
gum;  hence 
ful,  and  they 
ons. 

outrage  had 
eldoni  was  it 
hite  men  in 
'  superior  in 
fall  upon  two 
ing  the  other 
friends,  was 
!  oldest  hunt* 
illel;  it  was 
en  aware  of 
Dtherwise  he 
ler  belbre  he 
lie  discharge 
rpose  with  a 

'as  the  clear 
of  the  eider 
ige;  because 
ed  from  his 
idian's  feet; 
that  he  had 
uck  a  knife 

the  ground, 
to  the  hall. 

reeoramen- 
once  struck 
jnning  from 
le  rirer,  and 

ger's  intelli- 
«  imagined, 
1  the  neigh- 

sm  Redskia 
lose  counte- 
and  strong 
avid  Muir'a 
this  Ingian 
ehirar 
ok  at  him,'* 
ent  to  sleep; 
rerful  chap, 

\r 

deer,  or  he 
lerveys  off, 
orncob  with 


ble  to  form 
of  this  bold 
however,  to 
iscowry:  a 


meeting  of  the  flHncipal  inhabitants  was  conve- 
ned, a  description  of  the  Indian's  person,  and  of 
the  marks  by  which  Hervey's  horse  might  be 
recognised,  was  written,  and  several  copies 
thereof  made,  and  forwarded  to  the  nearest  posts 
and  ferries ;  at  the  same  time  a  reward  of  a  hun- 
dred dollars  was  offered  to  any  person  who 
should  discover  the  offender,  and  a  hundred  more 
for  bis  seizure,  dead  or  alive. 

During  the  discussion  of  these  and  other  plans 
at  the  meeting,  our  old  acquaintance  David 
Muir,  who  fell  himself  not  to  be  one  of  the  least 
important  persons  present,  said,  "I'm  thinking, 
gentlemen,  it  would  be  as  weel  to  send  a  mes- 
senger out  to  Colonel  Brandon,  wi'  this  intelli- 
gence ;  he  kens  the  Indians  as  weel's  ony  man 
in  this  country-side,  mavhap  he'll  gie  us  some 
gude  counsel;  and,  sirs, '  added  David,  his  grey 
eyes  twinkling  at  his  own  sagacity,  "  be  sure  ye 
dinna  forget  to  tak  the  advice  o'  yon  lang-head- 
ed  chiel,  Battiste ;  if  the  Indian  deevil's  o'  this 
side  the  Mississippi,  Battiste  will  fin'  him  out, 
as  sure  as  twa  threes  mak  sax." 

This  was  one  of  the  longest  orations  which 
David  had  ever  delivered  in  public;  and  both 
his  suggestions  being  approved,  carried  nem.  am., 
and  the  meeting  dissolved,  David  returned  to  his 
store  with  his  hands  thrust  into  his  coat-tail  pock- 
ets, and  his  countenance  big  with  the  conscious- 
ness of  having  rendered  essential  service  to  the 
Territory. 

We  must  now  return  to  Reginald,  who,  on 
the  morning  of  this  same  day,  rose  with  the  sun ; 
and  feeling  himself  nothing  the  worse  from  his 
slight  wounds,  or  from  his  diving  adventure,  sal- 
lied forth  to  see  how  Baptiste  had  provided  for 
Nekimi's  safety  and  comfurt.  All  means  hav- 
ing failed  to  entice  him  into  a  stable,  the  hunter 
had  secured  him  firmly  to  an  oak,  casting  down 
for  him  abundance  both  of  (bod  and  litter.  Re- 
ginald approached  him,  holding  in  his  hand 
some  bread;  and  having  given  the  sharp,  shrill 
cry  (which,  to  Lucy's  great  alarm,  he  had  prac- 
tised more  than  once  in  the  house),  he  was 
agreeably  surprised  to  perceive  that  the  horse 
recognised  it,  and  seemed  less  averse  to  his  ca- 
resses ;  having  fed  him,  and  carefully  ob.served 
all  the  rules  laid  down  by  War-Eagle  for  gaining 
his  affections,  he  returned  to  the  house,  and  be- 
gan to  collect  the  various  articles  which  he  pro- 
posed to  give  to  his  Indian  brother;  among  these 
was  a  good  Kentucky  rifle,  and  a  handsome 
buck's-horn  knife  for  the  chief;  he  selected  also 
a  light  fowling-piece,  which  he  had  used  as  a 
boy,  and  whicn  he  intended  for  Wingenund ;  to 
these  he  added  several  pounds  of  powder,  and  a 
due  proportion  of  lead;  he  also  threw  into  the 
package  a  few  beads  and  a  large  cornelian  ring, 
which  had  been  long  the  occupant  of  his  dress- 
ing-case. 

When  he  had  collected  all  these  together  he 
gave  them  to  Baptiste,  desiring  him  to  be  ready 
to  accompany  him  to  the  rendezvous  after  break- 
fast; and  having  finished  his  preparations,  he 
knocked  at  the  door  of  Lucy's  room,  to  inquire 
whether  she  was  ready  to  preside  at  the  morning 
meal. 

"  Come  in,  Reginald,"  she  said ;  "  if  I  am  rath- 
er late  it  is  your  fault;  for  your  adventures  of 
yesterday  have  driven  sleep  from  my  pillow; 
and  even  when  I  did  fall  asleep,  I  dreamed  of 
nothing  but  your  Indian  hero." 

"  Say  you  so,  faithless  one  1"  replied  Regi- 
nald; "I  shall  tell  that  to—" 

"  Hash  50W,  Reginald,"  said  the  blushing  girl, 


putting  her  little  hand  upon  his  month ;  "  did  you 
not  promise  me  yesterday  that  you  would  not  do 
so  again  1" 

"Perhaps  I  did,"  said  her  brother;  "and  I 
will  keep  it  if  you  will  come  down  stairs  and 
give  me  a  very  good  cup  of  coffee." 

In  the  breakfast-room  they  were  joined  by  the 
Colonel  and  Aunt  Mary ;  and  while  they  dis- 
cuss that  most  comfortable  of  family  meals,  we 
will  give  the  reader  a  slight  sketch  of  Uic  house 
in  which  they  were  assembled. 

It  was  built  of  substantial  brick  of  a  dun  red 
colour,  and  had  originally  been  a  regular  and 
solid  building  of  moderate  dimensions;  but  the 
Colonel  had  added  on  one  side  a  wing,  contain- 
ing a  library  and  sitting-rooms  for  himself  and 
his  son,  while  on  the  opposite  side  he  had  built 
additional  apartments  for  Aunt  Mary,  and  a 
small  conservatory  for  Lucy.  Thus  the  build- 
ing had  gradually  assumed  a  straggling  and  ir- 
regular shape,  the  back  court  being  occupied  by 
stables,  barns,  and  extensive  farm-offices.  The 
site  of  the  house  was  on  a  gentle  elevation,  slo- 
ping down  to  a  little  brook,  which  wound  its  bub- 
bling way  through  a  deep  grove  of  oak,  maple, 
and  sycamore,  and  circling  round  the  base  of 
the  hill,  iell  at  the  distance  of  half  a  mile  into 
the  Muskingum  river.  The  spot  still  retained 
the  name  of  "  Mooshanne"  (signifying  in  the 
Delaware  language  Elk  Creek),  probably  owing 
to  the  little  streamlet  above  mentioned  having 
been  a  favourite  resort  of  an  animal  which  the 
rifles  of  Reginald  and  Baptiste  had  rendered 
somewhat  scarce  in  the  neighbourhood. 

We  lefi  the  family  assembled  at  the  breakfast- 
table,  where  the  conversation  still  turned  upon 
the  adventures  of  the  preceding  day. 

"  Reginald,"  said  Lucy,  "  I  should  like  to  go 
with  you  to-day,  to  tee  your  Indian  brother,  and 
that  heroic  boy." 

"I  fear,"  replied  her  brother,  "it  is  farther 
than  you  could  easily  walk;  and,  moreover, 
Wingenund  will  scarcely  accompany  his  chief; 
he  must  be  still  too  weak  from  his  wound." 

."  Nay,  Reginald ;  if  the  distance  is  the  only 
difficulty,  I  can  ride  Snowdrop;  and  if  Winge- 
nund does  come,  I  will  reward  him  for  his  brave 
defence  of  my  brother,  by  giving  him  some  little 
trinket,  which  he  may  take  back  to  his  sister. 
You  cannot  refuse  me  now,"  she  added,  in  a 
coaxing  tone,  the  power  of  which  over  her  broth- 
er was  all  but  despotic. 

"  Of  course  I  cannot,  if  you  obtain  Aunt  Mary's 
and  the  Colonel's  permission,"  said  Reginald, 
smiling. 

Lucy  fact  with  no  farther  opposition.  Snow- 
drop was  ordered  to  be  saddled ;  in  a  few  min- 
utes th«  happy  girl  was  equipped,  and  provided 
with  a  coral  necklace  for  the  chief,  and  a  pretty 
broach,  destined  for  her  brother's  preserver. 

The  party  now  assembled  before  the  door, 
consisting  of  Reginald,  Baptiste,  and  Lucy, 
mounted  on  her  favourite  grey  pony:  our  hero 
slung  his  rifle  across  his  shoulders;  the  sturdy 
woodsman,  besides  carrying  his  own  enormous 
axe,  walked  lightly  under  the  two  rifles,  and  the 
other  articles  to  be  presented  to  the  chief,  and 
Wolf  played  around  them  his  fantastic  and  un- 
wieldy gambols, 

Cheerflil  and  smiling  was  the  woodland  scen- 
ery through  which  they  passed;  the  dewdrops 
still  glittered  in  the  beams  of  the  morning  sun, 
and  the  air  was  impregnated  with  the  vernal  fra- 
grance arising  from  a  thousand  opening  buds  and 
blossoms. 


/ 


se 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIKD. 


"  See,  Lucy,"  said  her  brother,  as  he  walked 
by  her  side,  while-  ihe  tact  ul'  the  sturdy  hunter 
kept  tiiin  a  lew  paces  in  the  rear,  "see  how 
those  mischievous  squirrels  hop  and  chatter 
upon  the  boughs !  Tliey  seem  to  know  that  your 
pre&ence  is  a  protection  to  them." 

"  1  olten  wonder,  Reginald,  how  you  can  shoot 
such  playful  and  graceful  animals;  you  who 
have  taste  enough  to  admire  their  beauty,  and 
who  can  find  sport  more  worthy  of  your  rifle." 

"It  is  childish  sport,  Lucy;  yet  they  are  no 
contemptible  additions  to  the  table ;  their  furs  are 
useful,  and  there  is  some  skill  in  shooting  them 
— that  is,  in  shooting  them  properly." 

"If  I  were  a  man,  I  would  shoot  nothing  biM 
lions  and  tigers,  bulialoes  or  bears  I"  said  bi.s  sis- 
ter. 

"A  pretty  Amazon,  truly!"  said  Reginald, 
laughing:  "  yet,  inethinks,  your  thoughts  are  not 
always  so  warlike.  Come,  Lucy,  now  that  we 
are  alone  (for  our  good  Baptiste  is  out  of  ear- 
shot), you  need  not  pout  or  blush  if  I  ask  you 
whether  Ethelston  is  expected  soon  to  return  1" 

"  Indeed,  1  know  not,  Reginald,"  said  his  sis- 
ter, blushing  in  spite  of  his  prohibition.  "  His 
last  letter  to  the  Colonel  mentioned  something 
about  privateers,  and  the  rupture  with  France. 
Papa  did  not  appear  desirous  of  communica- 
ting much  upon  the  subject,  so  I  dropped  it." 

"True,"  said  Reginald;  "the  French  will  not 
soon  forget  or  forgive  the  loss  of  their  fine  frig- 
ate, the  Insurgent,  which  was  taken  the  other 
day  so  gallantly  by  the  Constellation.  I  doubt 
not  they  will  endeavour  to  cripple  our  trade  in 
the  West  Indies.  Edward  has  got  a  little  craft 
that  can  run  if  she  cannot  fight." 

"  1  am  sure  Edward  will  never  run  if  it  is  pos- 
sible to  fight,"  said  Lucy,  a  little  piqued. 

"There,  again,  you  speak  the  truth:  it  is  be- 
cause his  courage  is  so  tempered  by  his  judg- 
ment, that  he  is  fit  to  1)6  entrusted' with  other 
lives  and  property  than  his  own :  if  it  is  »w<  pos- 
sible to  fight,  he  will  have  sense  and  skill  enough 
to  show  the  Frenchman  his  heels. — By-the-by, 
Lucy,  which  vessel  is  he  now  commanding  1", 

Again  there  was  a  decided  blush,  and  almost 
a  pout  on  Lucy's  full  lip,  as  she  said,  "  You  know, 
brother,  that  the  '  Adventure,'  and  the '  Pocahun- 
tas,'  are  both  in  port,  and  the  vessel  he  is  now  on 
board  of  is  the— ' 

"  Oh !  I  remember,"  said  Reginald,  laughing ; 
"she  was  to  be  called  the  'Lucy;'  but  Eldward 
did  not  choose  to  hear  that  name  in  every  com- 
mon sailor's  and  negroe's  mouth;  so  he  altered  it 
to  the  '  Pride  of  Ohio,'  which  means  in  his  vo- 
cabulai-y  the  same  thing." 

"  1  wish,"  said  Lucy,  "  there  was  any  Mary, 
or  Charlotte,  or  Catherine,  or  any  other  name 
under  the  sun,  about  which  I  could  tease  you ! 
Have  a  little  patience,  Mr.  Reginald ;  my  turn 
•will  come:  you  shall  see  what  mercy  I  will 
show  you  then!" 

Thus  did  the  brother  and  sister  spar  and  jest 
•with  each  other  until  they  reached  the  spot  ap- 
pointed for  the  interview.  As  they  had  arrived 
rather  before  the  time,  they  imagined  that  the 
War-Eagle  had  not  yet  come;  but  Bapti.ste,  put- 
ting his  finger  to  his  mouih,  blew  a  long  shrill 
signal-whistle,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  chief 
appeared,  accompanied  by  Wingenunii.  As 
ihey  emerged  from  the  forest,  and  approached, 
Reginald  lool  .d  at  his  sister  to  see  the  effect  pro- 
duced by  their  appearance;  for  the^ chief  was 
dressed  in  a  manner  calculated  to  display  his  no- 
ble figure  and  countenance  to  better     .'vantage 


than  on  the  preceding  day.  His  long  black 
hair  was  parted  on  his  forehead,  and  gathered 
into  a  mass,  confined  by  a  narrow  fillet  made 
from  the  fur  of  the  white  weasel,  and  surmount- 
ed by  an  eagle's  feather.  It  seemed  that  his  vow 
of  war  and  revenge  was  for  the  time  cancelled: 
for  the  lines  of  black  paint  which  had  disfigured 
his  visage  were  removed,  and  the  commanding 
form  and  features  were  not  marred  by  any  gro- 
tesque or  fanciful  attire.  His  brawny  neck  was 
bare,  and  a  portion  of  his  bold,  open  chest  ap- 
peared beneath  the  light  hunting  shirt,  which 
was  his  only  upper  vesture.  'I'he  ponderous 
war-club  was  still  at  his  girdle,  but  the  scalp  had 
disappeared:  and  his  light,  free  step  upon  the 
grass  was  like  that  of  a  young  elk  on  a  prairie. 

The  dress  of  Wingenund  was  unaltered.  He 
was  still  very  weak  from  the  loss  of  blood,  and 
the  pain  con.sequent  upon  his  wound;  his  arm 
rested  in  a  sling,  made  from  the  platted  bark  of 
elm ;  and  the  air  of  languor  cast  over  his  coun- 
tenance by  sleeplessness  and  suffering,  gave  ad- 
ditional efifect  to  the  delicacy  of  his  filatures,  and 
the  deep  dark  lustre  of  his  eyes. 

"Our  new  brother  is  indeed  a  fine-looking 
creature !"  said  Lucy,  as  War-Eagle  drew  near. 
"What  a  haughty  step  and  bearing  he  has! 
Wingenund  looks  too  gentle  to  be  an  Indian!" 

"  He  is  as  brave  as  gentle,  Lucy ;  look  at  his 
arm!"  and,  as  she  did  look  at  the  wounded  limb, 
she  remembered  that  only  yesterday  it  had  saved 
her  brother's  life. 

The  greeting  between  Reginald  and  the  two 
Indians  was  affectionate  and  cordial;  he  then 
presented  his  sister  to  them  both  in  turn.  The 
chieftain,  placing  his  hand  upon  his  heart,  fixed 
upon  her  that  penetrating  look  with  which  he 
had  before  scrutinized  her  brother;  it  was  not 
the  bold  stare  of  vulgarity  admiring  beauty,  but 
the  child  of  nature  reading  after  his  own  fashion 
a  page  in  her  book. 

"  War-Edgle,"  said  Lucy  to  him,  in  her  >wn 
gentle  tone  of  voice,  "  I  know  all  that  passMl 
yesterday,  and  you  are  now  my  brother !" 

As  she  pronounced  his  name  in  English,  a 
gleam  shot  from  his  eye,  and  a  perceptible  and 
sudden  change  came  over  his  counisnance ; 
it  seemed  produced  by  some  unexpected  asso- 
ciation; and  Lucy  was  surprised  at  the  deep 
pathos  of  his  voice,  as  he  replied,  "  The  Great 
Spirit  has  made  the  sun  to  shine  upon  my  white 
brother's  path  I  His  heart  is  brave;  his  arm  is 
strong;  and  his  sister  is  like  a  flower  of  the 
prairie ! — her  voice  comes  upon  the  ear  like  a 
pleasant  dream !"  These  last  words  he  spoke 
rather  to  himself  than  addressing  those  around 
him. 

Lucy  was  not  displeased  with  the  Indian's 
compliment,  and  was  about  to  speak  to  Winga- 
nuntl,  when  Reginald  said  aloud,  "  Come,  let  us 
withdraw  among  those  thick  trees;  we  have 
mai  /  things  to  talk  about."  His  proposal  be- 
ing assented  to,  the  whole  party  were  soon  re- 
assembled under  a  branching  oak,  screened  from 
the  public  track  by  a  thicket  of  rhododendron. 

White  they  were  effecting  this  manoeuvre, 
the  guide  took  an  opportunity  of  interchanging 
a  few  sentences  with  the  War-Eagle;  the  result 
of  which  was  app.-irently  satisfactory  to  the 
honest  woodsman,  for  his  face  instantly  resu- 
med its  usual  frank  and  careless  expression. 

"  Lucy,"  said  her  brother,  "  as  you  have 
thought  proper  to  accompany  me  here,  you 
must  play  your  part  as  Q,ueen  of  the  Feast. 
I  hope  my  brothers  will  value  these  baubles 


more  Iron 
insirucied 
which  tht 
seiiting  th 
him, 

"  War- 
sister  giv 
friendship 
and  lead 
in  the  terr 
The  ch 
both    upo 
thanks  yc 
and  guard 
He  ther 
was  a  pie 
lence,  wh 
own  langt 
Lucy  t^ 
ing  him  \ 
him,  "W 
ibr  a  brotl 
The  bo: 
saying, 
gle  will  t( 
The  sistei 
is  ready  t( 
"  Indeei 
is  very  fa; 
ed  the  nig 
"  Wing 
smile;  "  1 
Meanw 
the    chief 
wound  w; 
o'  blood;  ( 
thought  h 
ter  now, 
tigue,  he' 
as  much  1 
"Come 
you  put  £ 
sack  witi 
feast  with 
The   gi 
drew  fron 
a  couple  ( 
taking  mc 
ing  the  wi 
nund  waa 
apart  witI 
tiste,  and 
luncheon, 
how   he 
"Good." 
rather  fro 
palate. 

Regina 
the  War- 
from  bin 
joining  t 
beyond  t 
anrious 
Baptiste 
having  e 
St.  Louis 
investme 
fair  an  o 
While 
low  and 
listened  ' 
and  iher 
Lucy  bei 
tion'witt 
intelligei 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


s  long  black 
and  giithered 
w  fillei  made 
dU  ^urmount- 
I  iliai  liJN  vow 
le  cancelled; 
lud  distigured 
commanding 
by  any  gro- 
irny  neck  was 
>en  cliesi  ap- 
shirt,  which 
e  ponderous 
the  scalp  had 
ep  upon  the 
>a  a  prairie, 
altered.    He 
)f  blood,  and 
md;  his  arm 
atted  bark  of 
er  his  coun- 
ng,  gave  ad- 
leatures,  and 

fine-looking 
e  drew  near, 
ing  he  has! 
tn  Indian!" 
;  look  at  his 
Dunded  limb, 

it  had  saved 

and  the  two 
inl;  he  then 
turn.  The 
i  heart,  fixed 
Lh  which  he 
;  it  was  not 
\  beauty,  but 
own  fashion 

,  in  her  )wq 
that  passwl 
iher !" 

t  English,  a 
cepiible  and 
>unt:nance ; 
[)ected  asso- 
at  the  deep 
'  The  Great 
m  my  white 
;  his  arm  u 
.'wer  of  the 
!  ear  like  a 
is  lie  spoke 
lose  around 

he  Indian's 
;  to  Winge- 
lome,  let  us 
I  we  have 
roposal  he- 
re .soon  re- 
eened  from 
)dendron. 
manoeuvre, 
eichanging 
;  the  result 
ory  to  the 
intly  resu- 
ression. 
you    have 
here,   you 
the  Feast, 
le  baubles 


Vt 


'■■'?■ 
'^f^ 


more  trom  your  hands  than  from  mine."  Thus 
insirucied,  Lucy  opened  the  canvass  package, 
which  the  guide  had  hitherto  carried,  and  pre- 
senting the  large  rifle  to  the  chief,  she  said  to 
him, 

"  War-Eagle,  your  brother  and  your  white 
sister  give  you  this  rifle  as  a  mark  of  their 
friendship;  and  with  it  they  give  you  powder 
and  lead  enough  to  shoot  all  the  deer  and  bears 
in  the  territory." 

The  chief  placed  her  hand  and  her  brother's 
both  upon  his  heart,  saying,  "War-Eagle 
thanks  you.  May  the  Great  Spirit  lore  you 
and  guard  yonrpaihl" 

He  then  poised  and  examined  the  rifle,  which 
was  a  piece  of  no  ordinary  beauty  and  excel- 
lence, while  Baptiste  whispered  to  him,  in  his 
own  language,' "  It  is  loaded." 

Lucy  t^en  turned  to  Wingenund,  and  present- 
ing him  with  the  lighter  fowling-piece,  said  to 
him,  "  With  this,  a  sister  thanks  Wingenund 
lor  a  brother's  life." 

The  boy  cast  his  eyes  modestly  to  the  ground, 
saying,  "  Wingenund  is  too  happy,  War-Ea- 
gle will  tell  his  name  to  the  braves  in  council. 
The  sister  of  Netis  is  good  to  him ;  Wingenund 
is  ready  to  die  !" 

"  Indeed,"  said  Lucy  to  the  guide,  "  I  fear  he 
1!;  very  faint  and  ill;  ask  the  chief  how  he  pass- 
ed Ihe  night !" 

"  Wingenund  is  not  ill,"  said  the  boy,  with  a 
smile  ;  "lie  is  very  happy." 

Meanwhile,  Baptiste  having  conferred  with 
the  chief,  replied,  "  Why,  Miss  Lucy,  the 
wound  was  a  very  bad  'un,  and  he  lost  a  power 
o'  blood;  once  or  twice  in  the  night,  War-Eagle 
thought  he  might  not  get  over  it;  but  he  is  bet- 
ter now,  and  though  unable  to  bear  much  fa- 
tigue, he's  a  hardy  young  plant,  and  will  take 
as  much  killing  as  an  eel." 

"  Come,  Baptiste,"  said  Reginald ;  "  I  know 
you  put  something  to  eat  and  drink  into  that 
sack  with  the  ammunition:  War-Eagle  must 
feast  with  us  to-day." 

The  guide,  opening  his  capacious  wallet, 
drew  from  it  a  venison  pasty,  some  bread,  and 
a  couple  of  bottles  of  Madeira.  Lucy  declined 
taking  more  than  a  cru.st  of  bread,  merely  tast- 
ing the  wine  to  the  health  of  the  hunters.  Winge- 
nund was  equally  abstemious,  and  sat  a  little 
apart  with  his  new  sister;  while  Reginald,  Bap- 
tiste, and  the  chief  made  a  more  substantial 
luncheon.  The  latter  being  asked,  by  Reginald, 
how  he  liked  the  wine,  replied,  carelessly, 
"  Good."  But  it  was  evident  that  he  drank  it 
rather  from  courtesy  than  because  it  pleased  his 
palate. 

Reginald  now  desired  the  guide  to  speak  to 
the  War-Eagle  in  his  own  tongue,  and  to  gather 
from  him  all  the  requisite  particulars  for  his 
joining  the  Delawares  in  ttieir  summer-hunt 
beyond  the  Mississippi.  He  had  long  been 
anrious  to  visit  some  of  those  scenes  which 
Baptiste  had  so  often  described ;  and  his  father 
having  expressed  a  wish  that  he  should  go  to 
St.  Louis  on  some  business  connected  with  his 
investments  in  the  fur-trade,  he  thought  that  so 
fair  an  opportunity  ought  not  to  be  lost. 

While  the  guide  and  the  chief  conversed  in  a 
low  and  earnest  tone  of  voice,  and  Reginald 
listened  with  an  idle  curiosity,  imagining  now 
and  then  that  he  could  catch  their  meaning, 
Lucy  became  much  interested  in  her  conversa- 
tion with  Wingenund  ;  she  was  surprised  at  his 
intelligence  and  proficiency  in  English,  and  was 


touched  by  the  melancholy  expression  of  his 
countenance  and  of  his  deep  lustrous  eyes.  As 
she  was  speaking,  he  suddenly  and  irapiossively 
placed  his  finger  on  her  arm,  then  raised  it  to 
his  own  lips,  as  a  sign  to  her  to  be  silent,  then 
creeping  two  or  three  yards  from  the  party,  he 
threw  himself  at  full  length  on  the  grass  with 
his  ear  to  the  ground.  Lucy  listened  attentive- 
ly, but  could  hear  nothing  but  the  gentle  breeze 
stirring  the  leaves,  and  the  regular  sound  of 
Snowdrop's  teeth  as  he  nibbled  the  young  grass. 

The  three  hunters  were  still  busy  with  their 
arrangements  for  the  summer,  when  Winge- 
nund, resuming  his  sitting  posture,  uttered  an 
almost  imperceptible  sound,  like  the  hiss  of  a 
small  serpent;  instantly,  as  if  by  instinct,  the 
War-Eagie  grasped  his  rifle,  and  looked  in- 
quiringly on  the  intelligent  countenance  of  the 
boy. 

"  Wingenund  hears  men  and  horses,"  was 
the  short  reply. 

Baptiste  strained  his  practised  ears  to  the  ut- 
most, as  did  Reginald,  without  success.  Even 
War-Eagle  seemed  for  a  moment  unable  to 
catch  the  sound — he  then  whispered  to  Regi- 
nald, "  Wingenund  speaks  truth,  there  are  men 
— not  a  few." 

Several  minutes  elapsed  before  our  hero  and 
the  guide  could  distinguish  the  tramp  of  horses 
and  the  voices  of  men  speaking  angrily. 

Our  hero  and  his  party  being'  effectually 
screened  from  view  by  the  dense  laurel*  thicket, 
could  listen  unobserved  to  the  conversation  of 
those  who  were  approaching;  and  the  following 
expressions,  delivered  in  a  loud  and  authorita- 
tive tone,  at  once  attracted  and  absorbed  their 
attention :  "  It  is  impossible  that  the  fellow 
should  escape,  w?  have  scouts  out  in  every  di- 
rection. There  can  be  n*  doubt  that  the  camp 
which  we  have  just  found  in  the  woods  is  the 
one  where  he  passed  the  night  with  other  Red- 
skins, for  the  embers  are  still  warm.  Dicken- 
son and  Brown  are  gone  south  towards  M:  ri- 
etta ;  Henderson  and  his  party  are  tracking  the 

f)rairies  to  the  north;  it  is  impossible  he  should 
ong  escape ;  and  young  Hervey  thinks  he  should 
know  him  anywhere!'' 

While  the  person  who  appeared  to  be  the  lead- 
er of  the  unseen  party  was  thus  speaking,  War- 
Eagle  whispered  a  few  sentences  to  Wingenund, 
to  which  the  intelligent  youth  only  replied  by  a 
look;  i'ls  chief  then  conversed  apart,  in  a  low, 
earnest  voice,  with  the  guide,  who  ended  by 
grasping  his  hand,  and  saying,  in  the  Dela  vara 
tongue,  "  Grande- Hftche  will  do  it  at  the  risk  of 
his  life." 

The  chief  appeared  .satisfied,  and  rising  with 
calm  dignity,  he  tightened  the  belt  at  his  waist, 
to  which  he  hung  his  newly-acquired  knife  and 
ammunition  ;  and  throwing  his  rifle  into  the  hol- 
low of  his  left  arm,  he  said  to  Reginald,  "War- 
Eagle  must  leave  his  brother  Netis;  Grande- 
HAche  will  tell  him  all ;  before  two  moons  have 
passed,  Netis  will  come  to  hunt  the  bison  with 
his  brother;  and  he  shall  sm.ike  with  the  braves 
of  the  Lenapi." 

"  He  will,"  replied  Reginald,  warmiy  pressing 
his  hand,  and  at  the  same  tune  passing  the  cor- 
nelian ring  upon  one  of  the  fingers  of  the  chief. 
"  If  the  Great  Spirit  gives  him  life,  he  will  come 
and  hunt,  and  smol{e  with  his  Lenape  brother." 

The  chief,  now  turning  to  Lucy,  drew  from 
his  head  the  eagle  feather  which  was  passed 


*  In  the  Western  States,  the  rhoUodeodron  is  genenllr 
Cttllad  the  laurel. 


98 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


through  his  hair,  and  which  was  quaintly  stain- 
ed, and  ornamented  with  porcupine  quills;  ofler- 
ing  it  sracelully  to  her,  he  said,  in  a  voice  of 
musical  gentleness,  "  War-Eagle  wishes  happi- 
ness to  the  'pale  flower  of  Mooshanne;'  many 
braves  have  tried  to  pluck  tiiis  featlier  from  his 
head;  no  Dacotah  nor  Pawnee  has  touched  it 
und  lived !  The  sister  of  Netis  may  fasten  it  in 
her  hair— let  none  but  a  brave  warrior  raise  his 
eyes  to  it  there." 

"  Thank  you,  dear  War-Eagle,"  said  Lucy, 
kindly,  "  I  promise  you  it  shall  never  be  touched 
by  an  unworthy  hand;  and  do  you  take  this 
string  of  red  beads,"  givini;;  him  at  the  same 
time  a  coral  necklace,  "  and  wear  it  for  the  sake 
of  your  white  sister." 

The  chief  received  this  gift  with  evident  pleas- 
ure ;  and  waving  his  hand  in  adieu,  whispering 
at  the  same  time  one  parting  word  to  Winge- 
nund,  be  Mrode  leisurely  away,  and  was  soon 
lost  in  the  deep  glades  of  the  forest. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Hon  Re^nsld  Brandon  retarned  to  Mooahanne  with  hia 
Situ.',  accompanied  bj  Wingeaund  ;  and  what  bafoll 
them  on  the  Ruad. 

Lucy  Brandon  was  not  a  little  surprised  at 
the  chief's  sudden  departure,  and  with  the  frank- 
nff,^  natural  to  her  character,  inquired  of  her 
brother  whether  he  could  explain  itit  cause ;  Re- 
ginald appeared  eiiher  unable  or  unwilling  to  do 
f.o;  and  an  appeal  to  the  guide  produced  only 
the  following  unsatisfactory  reply: 

"War-Eagle  is  like  the  bird  after  which  he's 
called — it  ain't  easy  to  explain  or  Ic  follow  his 
flight." 

Wingenund  remained  silent,  but  every  now 
and  then  he  fixed  his  bright  and  speaking  eves 
upon  Lucy,  as  if  he  would  divine  her  thoughts. 
That  young  lady,  though  at  a  loss  to  account 
for  her  embarrassment,  entertained  a  fear  that 
all  was  not  right,  and  proposed  to  her  brother  to 
return  to  Mooshanne. 

Snowdrop  was  soon  caught,  and  the  little  par- 
ty moved  leisurely  homeward,  Reginald  and  the 
guide  leading  the  way,  and  Wingenund  walking 
by  the  side  of  Lucy's  pony ;  after  riding  a  few 
minutes,  she  recovered  her  spirits,  and  remem- 
bering that  there  was  no  foundation  for  any  sur- 
mises of  evil,  she  resumed  the  conversation  with 
her  young  companion,  which  the  chief's  depart- 
ure had  interrupted.  "Tell  me,  Wingenund, 
who  is  the '  Black  Father,'  of  whom  you  speak  1" 

"He  is  very  good,"  said  the  boy,  seriously; 
"he  talks  with  the  Great  Spirit;  and  he  tells  us 
all  that  the  Great  Spirit  has  done ;  how  He  made 
the  earth,  and  the  water ;  and  how  He  punishes 
bad  men,  and  makes  good  men  happy.'' 

"  He  is  a  white  man,  then  1"  said  Lucy. 

"  He  is,"  replied  the  lad;  "but  though  he  is  a 
white  man,  he  always  speaks  truth,  and  does 
good,  and  drinks  uo  fire-water,  and  if  never  an- 
gry." 

What  a  humiliating  reflection  is  it,  thought 
Lucy  to  herself,  that  in  the  mind  of  this  young 
savage,  the  idea  of  white  men  is  naturally  asso- 
ciated with  drunkenness  and  strife !  "  Tell  me, 
Wingenund," she  continued,  "is  the  'Black  Fa- 
ther'old  1" 

"Many  winters  have  passed  over  his  head, 
and  their  snow  rests  upon  his  hair." 

"  Does  he  live  with  you  always  1" 

"  He  comes  and  he  goes,  like  the  sunshine  and 


the  rain ;  he  is  always  welcome ;  and  the  Lenapa 
love  him." 

"Can  he  speak  your  tongue  welll" 

"He  speaks  many  .tongues,  and  tries  to  make 
peace  between  the  tribes,  but  he  loves  the  Le- 
nap^,  and  he  teaches '  the  Prairie-bird'  to  talk 
with  the  Great  Spirit." 

"  Does  your  sister  speak  to  the  Black  Father 
in  her  own  tongue  1" 

"  Sometimes,  and  sometimes  in  the  English ; 
but  otlen  in  a  strange  tongue,  written  on  a  great 
book.  The  Black  Father  reads  it,  and  the  Prai- 
rie-bird opens  her  ears,  and  looks  on  his  face, 
and  loves  his  words;  and  then  she  tells  them  all 
to  me.  But  Wingenund  is  a  child  of  the  Lena- 
pa—he  cannot  understand  these  things !" 

"You  will  understand  them,"  said  Lucy, 
kindly,  "  if  you  only  iiave  patience,  you  know." 
she  added,  smiling,  "your  sister  understands 
them,  and  she  is  a  Lenape  too !" 

"Yes,"  said  the  boy;  "but  nobody  is  like 
Prairie- bird." 

"  She  must,  indeed,  be  a  remarkable  person," 
said  Lucy,  humouring  her  young  companion's 
fancy;  "still,  as  you  have  the  same  father  and 
mother,  and  the  same  blood,  whatever  she  learns, 
you  can  learn  too." 

"  I  have  no  father  or  mother,"  said  Winge- 
nund, sadly,  and  he  added,  in  a  mysterious 
whisper,  drawing  near  to  Lucy,  "Prairie-bird 
never  had  a  father  c  mether." 

"  Never  had  a  father  or  mother !"  repeated 
Lucy,  as  the  painful  thought  occurred  to  her, 
that  poor  Wingenund  was  deranged. 

"  Never,"  said  the  boy,  in  the  same  tone ;  "  she 
came  from  there,"  pointing,  as  he  spolce,  to- 
wards the  northwest  quarter  of  the  heaven. 

"  How  melancholy  is  it,"  said  Lucy  to  her- 
self, "  to  think  that  this  brave,  amiable  bov  is 
so  afllicted!  that  so  intelligent  and  quick  a 
mind  is  like  a  Ivre  with  a  broken  string !  Still," 
thought  she,  "  I  will  endeavour  to  understand 
his  meaning,  and  to  undeceive  him." 

"  Dear  Wingenund,  you  are  mistaken — your 
sister  had  the  same  father  anil  mother  as  your- 
self; she  may  have  learned  much,  and  may  un- 
derstand things  strange  to  you,  but  you  might 
learn  them  too." 

"  Wingenund's  father  and  mother  are  dead," 
said  the  boy,  in  a  voice  of  deep  and  suppressed 
emotion;  "he  will  not  tell  you  haw  they  died, 
for  it  makes  his  heart  throb  and  his  eyes  burn ; 
but  you  are  good  to  him,  and  shall  not  see  his 
anger.  Prairie-bird  never  had  a  father;  the 
Great  Spirit  gave  her  to  the  Lenap^." 

While  Lucy  was  musing  how  she  should  en- 
deavour to  dispel  this  strange  delusion  which 
seemed  to  have  taken  such  firm  hold  of  her 
young  companion's  mind,  Reginald  and  Bap< 
tiste  baited,  and  the  latter  said,  "  You  see  that 
party  approaching;  they  may  put  some  trouble- 
some questions,  leave  me  to  answer  them. 
Wingenund,  you  know  what  I  mean  V 

"  Wingenund  does  not  understand  Engli.sh," 
said  the  boy,  a  slight  smile  of  irony  lurking  in 
the  corner  of  his  mouth. 

The  approaching  party  consisted  of  eight  or 
ten  men,  all  armed  with  rifles,  excepting  two, 
who  were  mounted,  and  who  carried  cutlasses 
and  large  horse-pistols ;  among  the  pedestrians 
towered  the  gigantic  form  of  voung  Mike  Smith, 
who  has  already  been  presented  to  the  reader 
before  the  store  of  David  Muir,  in  Marietta; 
and  among  the  horsemen  was  the  younger  Her- 
vey,  leading  his  friends  to  scour  the  whole  coun- 


'  try  in  searc 
were  all  in 
spite  the  c( 
guide,  he 
they  might 
Wingenund 
'       "  Ha  !  Bi 
' ;;  guide's  ham 
■.  in  .search  ol' 
)  Bel's,  and  hi 
;,  his  sun,  and 
",  We  want  yi 
.   ily,  too." 
';     "How  ca 
'♦'what  is  th« 
"  A  hunt  1 
of  a  Redsk 
Stooping  froi 
in  a  low  voi 
■11  present, 
brother's  dei 
"Adarin 
sing;  "but  < 
'*  it  was  fresh 
,i«     "We  foil 
M,  Muskingum 
M     "Can'you 
,^dian  1"  inqu 
§    "A  tall, 
:|poplar,  and 
"iueemed;  but 
'I  on  the  head 
'|t»tes." 
r     A  cold  shi 
'comparing  t 
'  his  sudden  c 
Wingenund 
iect  of  their 
Wingenund, 
no  trace  of] 
Snowdrop's  i 
.and  he  himsi 
}^was  passing. 
I    After  a  m: 
;.  ,ued:  "You  i 
•  '^en  in  half; 
%    "Nothing 
-^^Tiave  brough 
iided,  callir 
bad  been  em 
The  guide 
stance  detec 
^  but  distin 
picions  wer 
■c«uiitenanc( 
'.,^ut  Mike  Si 
'?iihoulder,  hi 
'feather,  and 
,ding,  "Com 
marks  betw 
:}<what  Redsk 
"Mike," 
aon^ue  mus 
"mark  as  tha 
"  And  yei 
guiding  and 
jmeihing  s 
'Ay,  iha 
f  you  youn: 
,  hog  with  i 
you  can  tell 
'  I  was  to  ! 
Ibnzznrd  it  t 
easy  to  find 
"  You're 


THE   PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


M 


;  and  the  Lenapu 

welir 

ind  (ries  to  make 
lie  loves  the  Le. 
irie-bird'  to  talk 

he  Black  Father 

in  the  English ; 
ritten  on  a  great 
it,  and  the  Prai- 
>ks  on  his  face, 
he  tells  them  all 
lild  of  the  Lena- 
things  !" 
n,"  said  Lucy, 
ice,  you  know," 
ter  understands 

nobody  is  like 

irkable  person," 
Qg  companion's 
iame  father  and 
;ever  she  learns, 

"  said  Winge- 
1  a  mysterious 
r,  "Praine-bird 

Iherl"  repeated 
ccurred  to  her, 
ged. 

ametonej  "she 
:  he  spoke,  to* 
lie  heaven. 
i  Lucv  to  her- 
amiable  boy  is 
I  and  quick  a 
I  string!  Still," 
to  understand 
im." 

nistaken — your 
lother  as  your- 
1,  and  may  un- 
but  you  might 

;her  are  dead," 
ind  suppressed 
/una  they  died^ 
his  eyes  burn; 
lall  not  see  his 
a  father:  the 
ip*." 

she  should  en- 
elusion  which 
n  hold  of  her 
lald  and  Bap- 
"You  see  that 
:  some  trouble- 
answer  them. 
?an  V 

;and  English," 
any  lurking  in 

ed  of  eight  or 
ixcepiing  two, 
rried  cutlasses 
he  pedestrians 
J  Mike  Smith, 
to  the  reader 
in  Marietta; 
younger  Her- 
le  whole  coun- 


T  try  in  search  of  the  slayer  of  bis  brother;  they 
I  were  all  in  a  high  state  of  excitement;  and  de- 
^f  spile  the  cool  and  unmoved  demeanour  of  the 
f'  guide,  he  was  not  without  apprehension  tha' 
'  they  might  desire  to  wrer'c  their  vengeance  on 
'  Wingeiiund. 

"  Ha !  Baptiste,"  said  Hervey,  grasping  the 
guide's  hand;  "you  are  the  very  man  we  are 
in  .search  of;  we  have  already  been  to  the  colo- 
.  Hel's,  and  he  told  us  we  should  find  you  with 
his  son,  and  with  Mis  Brandon,  in  this  quarter. 
,  We  want  your  assistance,  man,  and  that  speed- 
ily, too." 

"How  can  I  serve  youl"  said  the  guide; 
"what  is  the  matter  1  you  seem  bent  on  a  hunt." 
"A  hunt!"  exclaimed  Hervey,  "yes,  a  hunt 
of  a  Redskin  devil!  Harkee,  Bapliste!"  and 
ttooping  from  his  horse,  he  repeated  to  the  guide 
in  a  low  voice,  but  clear  enough  to  be  heard  by 
ill  present,  the  circumstances  at*ending  his 
brotner's  death. 

"  A  daring  act,  indeed,"  said  the  guide,  mu- 
sing; "  but  could  not  you  follow  the  trail  while 
lA  it  was  fresh  yesterday  1" 
1     "  We  followed  it  to  a  creek  leading  to  the 
cMuskingum,  and  there  we  lost  it." 
I     "  Can  you  describe  the  appearance  of  the  In- 
Idian  1"  inquired  the  guide. 
I    "A  tall,  handsome  fellow,  as  straight  as  a 
^Ipoplar,  and  with  a  leap  like  a  painter,  so  he 
f  seemed ;  butd— n  him,  he  gave  me  such  a  knock 
i|on  the  head,  that  my  eyes  swam  for  five  min- 
■ftites." 

iv     A  cold  shudder  ran  through  Lucy's  limbs  as, 
■  comparing  this  slight  sketch  of  War-Eagle  with 
'  kis  sudden  departure  and  the  guide's  caution  to 
Wingenund,  she  recognised  in  the  chief  the  ob- 
ject of  their  search  :  glancing  her  eye  timidly  at 
Vringenund,  she  could  read  on  his  countenance 
no  trace  of  uneasiness;  he  was  playing  with 
Snowdrop's  mane ;  his  gun  resting  on  the  ground, 
Cjiand  he  himself  apparently  unconscious  of  what 
;f*'as  passing. 

I    After  a  minute's  reflection,  the  guide  contin- 

;Ued:  "You  say  that  the  Indian's  rifle  was  bro- 

'  jjken  in  half;  did  you  notice  anything  about  itl" 

(    "Nothing:  it  was  a  strong  coarse  piece;  we 

|have  brought  the  stock  with  us;  here  it  is,"  he 

Padded,  calling  up  one  of  his  party  to  whom  it 

v'Qiad  been  entrusted. 

The  guide  took  it  in  his  hand,  and  at  the  first 
glance  detected  the  imitation  of  .1  feather,  rough- 
Jy_  but  distinctly  cut  with  a  knife;  his  own  sus- 
picions were  at  once  confirmed,  although  his 
|c«uiitenance  betrayed  no  change  of  expression ; 
.^ut  Mike  Smith,  who  had  been  looking  over  his 
jj^houlder,  had  also  observed  the  marks  of  the 
>^eather,  and  noticed  it  immediately  aloud,  ad- 
^ading,  "Come,  Bapliste,  you  know  all  the  Ingian 
^^narks  between  Alleghany  and  the  Missouri; 
""     vhat  Redskin  has  this  belonged  to  1" 

"Mike,"  said  the  guide  coolly,  "a  man's 
Itongue  must  shoot  far  and  true  to  hit  such  a 
nark  as  that." 

'  And  yet,  Baptiste,  if  I'd  been  as  long  at  the 
guiding  and  trapping  as  you,  I  think  I'd  a'  know'd 
someihing  about  it." 

"Ay,  that's  the  way  of  it,"  replied  Baptiste; 
I*' you  young 'uns  a. ways  think  you  can  shav- 
a  hog  with  a  horn  spoon!  I  'spose,  Master  Mike, 
\fo\\  can  tell  a  buzzard  from  a  mocking-bird ;  but 
if  I  was  to  show  you  a  feaiher,  and  ask  von  ip/itit 
Ibuzzard  it  belonged  to,  the  answer  isight  not  be 
|easy  to  find." 

"You're  an  old  fool,"  growled  Mike  angrilv; 


and  he  added  as  bis  eye  rested  snddcnly  upon 
W'nf.enund,  "what  cub  is  that  standing  by 
Miss's  while  pouyl  we'll  see  if  ho  knows  this 
mark.    Come  here,  you  devil's  brat." 

Not  a  muscle  in  the  boy's  face  betrayed  his 
consciousness  that  he  was  addressed. 

"Come  here,  you  young  Redskin!"  shouted 
Mike  yet  more  angrily,  "or  I'll  sharpen  your 
I.  ovements  with  the  point  of  my  knife." 

Reginald's  fiery  temper  was  ill  calculated  to 
brook  the  young  backwoods-man's  coarse  and 
violent  language ;  placing  himself  directly  be- 
tween him  and  Wingenund,  he  said  to  the  for- 
mer in  a  stern  and  determined  tone,  "Master 
Smith,  you  forget  yourself;  that  boy  is  one  of 
my  company,  and  is  not  to  be  exposed  either  to 
insult  or  injury." 

"  Here's  a  pretty  coil  about  a  young  Redskin," 
said  Mike,  trying  to  conceal  bis  anger  under  a 
forced  laugh;  "how  do  we  know  that  he  ain't  a 
brother  or  a  .^on  of  the  Ingian  we're  in  search  ol: 
s'  blood,  if  we  could  find  out  that  he  was,  we'd 
tar  him,  and  burn  him  over  a  slow  fire!" 

"  I  tell  you  again,"  said  Reginald,  '-  that  he  is 
guilty  of  no  crime;  that  he  saved  my  life  yester- 
day at  the  risk  of  his  own,  and  that  while  I  live 
neither  you  nor  any  of  your  party  shall  touch  a 
hair  of  his  head." 

Baptiste  fearing  the  result  of  more  angry  words, 
and  moved  by  an  appealing  look  from  Miss 
Brandon,  now  interpo.sed,  and  laying  his  hand 
on  Smith's  shoulder,  said,  "Come,  Master  Mike, 
there  is  no  use  in  threatening  the  young  Red- 
skin when  you  see  that  he  dees  not  understand 
a  word  that  you  say ;  tell  me  what  you  wish  to 
inquire  of  him,  and  I  will  ask  him  in  his  own 
tougue." 

"  His  tongue  be  d— d,"  said  Mike;  "I'll  wa- 
ger a  hat  against  a  gallon  of  David  Muir's  be"^', 
that  the  brat  knows  English  as  well  as  you  or  1, 
although  he  seems  to  have  nothing  to  do  but  to 
count  the  tassels  on  the  edge  of  his  shirt.  I'll 
.show  you  without  hurting  him,"  he  added  in  a 
lower  tone,  "that  I'm  not  far  wrong." 

"  You  swear  not  to  injure  him  1"  said  Reginald, 
who  overheard  what  passed. 

"  I  do,"  said  Mike ;  "  I  only  want  to  show  you 
that  he  can't  make  a  fool  of  Mike  Smith." 
Here  he  called  up  one  of  the  men  from  ihe 
rear;  and  having  whispered  something  in  his 
ear,  he  said  in  a  loud  and  distinct  tone  of  voice, 
"Jack,  we  have  found  out  that  this  Indian  cub 
belongs  to  ihe  pa'ty,  one  of  whom  murdered  poor 
Hervey.  Life  for  life  is  the  law  of  the  back- 
woods; do  you  step  a  little  on  one  side;  I  will 
count  four,  and  when  I  come  to  the  four,  split 
me  the  young  rascal's  head,  either  with  a  bullet 
or  with  your  axe" 

"For  Beaven's  sake,  as  you  are  men,"  ex- 
claimed Lucy  In  an  agony,  "spart  him!" 

"Peace,  Miss  Brandon,"  said  Mike;  "your 
brother  will  explain  to  you  that  it  must  be  so." 

The  guide  would  fain  have  whispered  a  word 
to  the  boy,  but  he  was  too  closely  watched  by 
Smith,  and  he  was  obliged  to  trust  to  Winge- 
nund's  nerves  and  intelligence. 

"Are  you  ready,  Jackl"  said  Mike  audibly. 

"Yes!"  and  he  counted  slowly,  pausing  lie- 
tween  each  number:  one — two — thrre!  At  the 
pronunciation  of  this  Inst  word  Wingenund, 
whose  countenance  had  not  betrayed  by  Ihe 
movement  of  a  muscle,  or  by  the  expression  ofa 
single  feature,  the  slightest  interest  in  what  was 
passing,  amused  himself  by  patting  the  great 
rough  herd  which  Wolf  rubbed  against   his 


so 


THE  P  R  A  I II I  E  .  B I R  D. 


hand,  a^  if  totally  unconscious  tha*.  the  deadly 
weapon  wa!>  raised,  and  that  (he  next  word 
from  the  huntcr'ii  lips  was  to  be  his  deaih  war- 
rant. 

"  D— n  it,  you  are  right  after  all,  Baptiste," 
said  Milfe  8ini'h;  "the  brat  curiaiuly  doe*  not 
understand  us,  or  he'd  have  pricl<ed  his  ears 
when  I  came  to  number  three ;  so,  do  you  ask 
hitu  in  his  own  lingo  i.'.'  be  linows  that  mark  on 
the  ride-butt,  and  can  tell  us  to  what  Redskin 
tribe  it  belongs  1" 

The  guide  now  addressed  a  few  words  to 
Wingcnund  in  Ihe  Delaware  tongue,  while  Re- 
ginald and  Lucy  interchanged  a  glance  of  won- 
der and  admiration  at  the  boy's  sagacity  and 
courage. 

■  He  tells  me  that  he  has  seen  this  mark 
before,"  said  the  guide. 

"Has  hel"  replied  Mike;  "ask  him  whether 
it  is  that  of  a  Shawnee,  or  a  Wyaadoi  j  of  an 
Iroquois  or  of  a  Delaware  1" 

After  again  conferring  with  Wingenund,  the 
guide  muuered  to  himself,  "  This  youngster  won't 
tell  a  lie  to  keep  a  bullet  from  his  brain  or  a  hal- 
ter from  his  neck ;  1  must  act  lor  him."  He  ad- 
ded in  a  louder  tone,  "  Mike,  a  word  with  you: 
it  is  not  unlikely  that  the  Ingian  you're  in  search 
of  is  the  same  wlio  gave  ihe  boy  that  wound, 
and  who  tried  to  kill  Master  Regiiiald  yesterday ; 
if  i'  is  so,  he  wants  no  more  punisliing;  he  has 
his  allowance  already." 

"  How  so  t"  said  Mike. 

"He  is  dead,  man— killed  on  the  spot.  Do 
you  and  Uervey  meet  me  here  to-morrow  an 
hour  before  noon ;  I  will  take  you  to  the  place 
where  the  body  is  buried,  and  you  shall  judge 
for  yourselves  whether  it  is  that  of  the  man  you 
seek." 

"  It's  a  bargain,"  said  Mike,  "  we'll  come  to 
the  time ;  now,  lads,  forward  to  Hervey's  Clear- 
ing. Lei's  have  a  merry  supper  to-night;  and 
tn-inorrow,  if  the  guide  shows  us  Ihe  carcase  of 
this  rascal,  why  we  can't  hurt  that  much ;  but 
we'll  pay  ofl'  a  long  score  one  day  or  other  with 
some  of  the  Redskins.  Sorry  to  have  kept  you 
waitin',  .Miss,  and  hope  we  haven't  scared  you," 
said  the  rough  fellow,  making,  as  he  drew  otf 
his  party,  an  awkward  attempt  at  a  parting  bow 
to  Lucy. 

"  That  was  a  clever  turn  of  Baptiste's,"  said 
Reginald  in  a  low  voice  to  his  sifter ;  "  he  has 
made  them  believe  that  the  cowardly  knave  who 
tried  to  stab  me  was  the  perpetrator  of  the  daring 
outrage  which  they  seek  to  avenge !" 

"And  was  it  really  War-Eagle  1"  said  Lucy, 
with  a  slight  shudder.  "  He  who  seems  so  no- 
ble and  so  gentle — was  it  he  who  did  itl" 

"I  believe  so,"  said  Reginald. 

"  But  is  it  not  wrong  in  us  to  be  friends  with 
him,  and  to  aid  his  escape  1" 

"  Indeed,"  replied  her  brother,  "  it  admits  of 
doubt ;  let  us  ask  the  guide,  he  will  speak  now 
without  reserve."  And  accordingly  Reginald 
Tepeated  to  Baptiste  the  question  and  his  sister's 
ocruples. 

"  Why  you  see,  Miss,"  said  the  wary  hunter, 
"  there  is  ho  proof  that  War-Eagle  did  it,  though 
I  confess  it  was  too  bold  a  deed  to  have  been 
done  by  that  dog  of  a  Wyandot;  but  I  will  tell 
you.  Miss,"  he  added,  with  increasing  energy 
and  vehemence,  "  if  the  War-Eagle  did  it,  you 
will  yourself,  when  you  know  all,  conless  that 
he  did  it  nobly,  and  that  he  deserves  no  punish- 
ment from  man.  That  elder  Hervey  was  one  of 
the  blood-thirsty  band  by  whom  the  harmless 


Clirisiinn  Indians*  were  murdered ;  and  it  is  be- 
lieved that  it  was  by  his  own  hand  that  Winge- 
nund's  father  fell;  t/  War-Eagle  revenged  this 
cruel  murder,  and  yet  spared  the  lile  of  the 
younger  brother  wheii  lying  helpless  at  his  feet, 
who  shall  dare  to  blame  him,  or  move  a  foot  in 
his  pursuit  1" 

"  He  speaks  the  truth,  Lucy,"  said  her  brother ; 
"  according  to  the  rules  b"  which  ret,  liation  it 
practiced  by  mankind,  War-Eagle  would  have 
i)een  justified  in  punishing  with  death  such  an 
act  of  unprovoked  atrocity;  but  it  is  a  danger- 
ous subject  to  discuss :  you  wad  better  forget  ail 
you  have  heard  about  it;  and  in  case  of  farther 
inquiries  being  made  in  your  presence,  imitate 
the  happy  unconsciousness  lately  displayed  by 
Wingenund." 

"  Come  here,  my  dear  young  brother,"  he 
added  in  a  kindiv  tone,  "and  tell  us — did  you 
really  think  that  hot-headed  chap  was  going  to 
shoot  you  when  he  counted  number  three  V 

"  No!"  said  the  boy,  with  a  scornful  smile. 

"Ai.d  why  not?  for  he's  a  violent  and  angry 
man." 

"  He  dared  not,"  was  the  reply. 

"How  so?" 

"  He  is  a  fool !"  i«'.ia  the  boy,  in  the  same 
scornful  tone ;  "  a  tool  scarcely  fit  to  frighten 
the  fawn  af  an  antelope !  If  he  had  touched  me, 
or  attempted  to  shoot  me,  Nelis  and  Qrande- 
HAche  would  have  killed  him  immediately." 

"  You  are  right,  my  young  brave,"  said  Regi- 
nald, "he  dared  not  hurt  you.  See,  dear  Lucy," 
he  added  apart  to  his  sister,  "what  a  ripe  judg- 
ment, whot  a  heroic  spirit,  what  nerves  of  iron, 
are  found  in  the  slender  frame  of  this  wounded 
boy,  exhausted  by  fatigue  and  suffering !" 

"We  will  at  least  give  him  a  hearty  supper," 
said  Lucy,  "  and  an  affectionate  welcome  to  our 
home." 

Wingenund  thanlred  her  with  his  dark  eyes, 
and  the  little  party  proceeded  leisurely,  without 
incident  or  interruption,  to  Mooshanne.   , 


CHAPTER  X. 

In  which  the  Reader  ii  unceremontounly  transpnrtcd  to 
anothHf  Elemenl  In  Commny  with  Ethelatun  ;  the  Intter 
li  left  In  a  disngreeakle  Prcdlcanienl. 

It  is  time  that  we  should  now  turn  our  atten- 
tion to  Ethelston,  who  is  much  too  important  a 
personage  in  our  narrative  to  bo  so  long  neglect- 
ed, and  respecting  whose  safety  Lucy  began  to 
feel  the  jealous  anxiety  of  love ;  for  "  Ti\e  Prido 
of  Ohio"  had  been  long  expected  in  Mi-vrietta, 
and  several  French  frigates  and  corvettes  wore 
reported  to  he  cruising  among  the  West  India 
Islands,  actively  engaged  in  revenging  upon 
American  commerce  the  loss  which  they  had 
sustained  in  the  Insurgente.  We  shall  soon  see 
that  Lucy's  alarm  was  not  altogether  ground- 
less, and  that  her  lover's  prolonged  absence  was 
not  without  sufficient  cause.  About  a  month 
preceding  the  occurrences  detailed  in  the  last 
chapter,  Ethelston,  having  landed  his  merchan- 
dise in  safety  at  Port  Royal,  and  havin;!  taken 
on  board  a  small  cargo  of  sugar  and  coffee,  pre- 
pared to  return  to  New  Orleans ;  he  had  heard 
of  the  French  men-of-war  cruising  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, and  prudently  resolved  to  risk  as  littlo 

•  AlludinR  a(fain  to  the  moasacr*  of  the  Moravian  Dela- 
ware! at "  Gnadcohutten." 


THE   PRAIRIEDIRD. 


31' 


id  ;  and  It  Is  be- 
nd that  Winge- 
e  revenged  lhi» 
the  lile  of  the 
)less  at  his  feet, 
'  move  a  foot  in 

>aid  her  brother ; 
:h  ret,  lialion  i% 
gle  would  have 
I  death  such  an 
t  it  is  a  danger- 
better  forget  all 
case  of  farther 
iresence,  imitate 
ily  displayed  by 

ig  brother, "  he 
ell  us— <lid  you 
ip  was  going  to 
iber  Ihreel" 
:ornful  smile, 
oleiit  and  angry 


jy,  in  the  same 
y  fit  to  frighten 
had  touched  me, 
lis  and  Grande- 
mmediately." 
ave,"  said  Regi- 
See,  dear  Lucy," 
vhat  a  ripe  jud^'- 
,t  nerves  of  iron, 
of  this  wounded 
uffering!" 
I  hearty  supper," 
i  welcome  to  our 

h  his  dark  eyes, 
iurely,  without 
shanne.  , 


>u!«ly  transported  to 
helslun ;  the  latter 


turn  our  atten- 
too  important  a 
so  long  neglect- 
Lucy  began  to 
for  "  Ti<e  Prido 
ted  in  M<.\rietta, 
corvettes  w^ire 
the  West  India 
revenging   upon 
which  they  had 
fe  shall  soon  see 
ogether  ground- 
red  absence  was 
About  a  month 
iled  in  the  last 
ed  his  merchan- 
id  having  taken 
and  coffee,  pre- 
;  he  had  heard 
ing  in  the  neigh- 
d  to  risk  as  littlo 


tUe  Moravian  D«l.a- 


'  as  possible  on  this  trip ;  he  took,  therefore,  secu- 
ritifs  for  a  great  portion  of  the  amoimt  due  to 
him,  which  he  left  in  the  charge  ol  the  vessel's 
(ionsigneej,  and  conveyed  on  board  only  a  suffi- 
cient cargo  to  put  The  Pride  of  Ohio  in  perfect 
sailing  trim,  and  to  give  her  a  fair  chance  of  es- 
cape in  case  she  were  chased  by  an  enemy  ;  his 
little  brig  was  well  rigged  and  manned,  and  he 
ftit  conhdent  that  few,  if  any,  of  the  French 
cruisers  would  match  her  for  speed.  His  male 
or  sailing-master  was Uregson,  a  hardy,  wea'.her- 
beaten  old  sailor,  who  had  served  on  board  every 
kind  of  craft,  from  a  man-of-war  to  a  fishing- 
cobble,  and  knew  every  headland,  reef,  and  cur- 
rent in  that  dangerous  sea,  as  well  as  a  Liver- 
pool pilot  knows  the  bunks  and  shoals  in  the 
mouth  of  the  Mersey.  The  Pride  of  Ohio 
mounted  three  .guns ;  two  eighteen  pound  car- 
ronades,  and  one  long  nine  pounder ;  ten  stout 
felhtws  and  a  black  cook  formed  her  comple- 
ment; the  last-mentioned  person  deserves  spe- 
cial notice,  as  he  was  a  character  strangely 
formed  by  the  alternations  of  fortune  which  he 
had  seen.  A  native  of  the  interior  of  western 
Africa,  he  ha  i,  in  early  life,  been  chosen,  on  ac- 
;  count  of  his  e.<ttranrdinary  strength  and  courage, 
'Va  chief  of  the  Lucumi  tribe,  to  which  he  beloiig- 
jied  ;  but  having  been  unfortunately  made  a  pris- 
ioner,  he  was  taken  down  to  the  coast  and  sold 
,ito  a  slaver;  thence  he  had  been  conveyed  to 
.^some  of  the  Spanish  islands,  and  afterwards  to 
Virginia,  where  he  had  come  into  the  possession 
iof  Colonel  Brandon,  who,  finding  him  possess- 
ed of  -any  good  qualities,  and  of  a  sagacity  very 
rare  ,  ng  his  countrymen,  had  offered  him  his 
libert.i  vhen  he  moved  to  Ohio;  but  Cupid  (for 
•o  was  the  negro  called)  had  grown  so  nmch 
attached  to  his  master,  that  he  begged  tu  be  al- 
lowed to  remain  in  his  service,  and  from  one 
employment  to  another,  had  now  become  cook 
and  steward  on  board  The  Pride  of  Ohio.  In 
frame  he  waf.  Herculean ;  and  though  he  rarely 
exerted  his  strength,  he  had  shown  on  various 
occasions  that  it  was  nearly,  if  not  quite,  equal 
to  that  of  any  other  two  men  in  the  vessel.  He 
•poke  but  little,  and  was  sullen  and  reserved  in 
his  manners  ;  but  as  he  never  disobeyed  orders, 
and  never  was  guilty  of  aggression  or  violence, 
Cupid  was,  upon  the  whole,  a  favourite  with  the 
crew. 

To  Ethelston  he  was  invaluable ;  fur  he  was 
always  at  his  post,  was  scrupulously  honest  with 
tespect  to  money  or  stores  placed  under  his 
Vitharge,  and  on  more  than  one  occasion  his 
:j|hrewdness  and  readiness  had  surprised  his 
.%oung  commander.    The  captain  (fi)r  so  was 
:£thelston  called  on  board)  always  treated  Cupid 
kindly,  and  never  allowed  him  to  be  made  the 
fubject  of  those  jeers  and  insults  to  which  free 
jyiiegroes  in  the  States  are  usually  exposed ;  on 
'phis  account  the  cook,  who  never  forgot  thr.t  he 
ad  been  a  warrior,  entertained  towards  him 
Ihe  varmest  feelings  of  attachment  and  grati- 
tude. 

How  or  where  he  had  obtained  the  name  he 

j)ore,  none  seemed  to  know ;  and  Ethelston  re- 

ncrabered  having  heard  that  when  first  he  came 

|i)to  Colonel  Brandon's  possession,  and  was 

sked  his  name,  he  had  suilenly  replied,  "  The 

e  I  once  had  is  at  home :  a  slave  has  neither 

V?  nor  home!"    A  terrible  gash  across  his 

kbrehead  and  left  check  (received,  prubablv,  in 


the  war  when  he  was  captured)  had  disfigured 
a  countenance  that  had  been  originally  expres- 
sive of  haughtiness  and  determination,  antl  had, 
porliaps,  led  the  slave-dealer  to  bestow  upon 
him  in  irony  the  name  by  which  he  was  now 
called. 

The  Pride  of  Ohio  hnd  made  good  two  days 
of  her  httmeward  passai/?,  when,  in  endeavour- 
ing to  round  a  point  'le  southern  coast  of 
Cuba,  Ethelston  descr>.  a  ship  some  miles  tu 
windward,  and  ahead,  which  a  careful  examina- 
tion through  his  glass  convinced  him  was  a 
French  frigate.  His  mate  being  below  at  the 
time,  ho  sent  for  him  on  deck,  anxious  to  see 
whether  the  experienced  sailor's  observation 
would  confirm  his  opinion.  As  so»n  as  he  ap- 
peared, handing  him  the  glass,  he  said,  "  Oreg- 
son,  see  what  you  make  of  that  fellow  on  our 
larboard  bow." 

"Make  of  her!"  said  the  mate;  "the  devil 
take  him  that  made  her,  and  him  that  brought 
her  athwart  us,  say  I,  captain  !  She's  a  French- 
man ;  and  though  we  can't  well  see  her  hull  yet, 
I  doubt  it  won't  be  long  before  wu  see  her  row 
of  teeth." 

"  I  thought  so  myself,"  said  Ethelston.  "  We 
must  hold  our  course  steady ;  and  if  we  can 
round  the  point,  we  may  then  bear  away,  and 
show  her  a  pair  of  heels.  Turn  the  hands  up, 
Gregson  ;  trim  ^he  sails,  and  stand  by  for  a  run. 
Put  Harrison  at  the  helm ;  he  can  keep  her  a 
point  nearer  than  that  youngster." 

"Ay,  ay,  sir!"  was  the  reply;  and  having 
executed  the  order,  he  returned  to  Ethelston, 
who  was  still  sweeping  the  southern  horizon 
with  his  glass,  and  examining  the  strange  ship, 
whose  hull  was  now  distinctly  visible. 

The  young  man's  countenance  wore  a  grave 
expression,  as,  returning  the  glass  to  his  mate, 
he  said,  "Gregson,  it  is,  as  we  supposed,  a 
French  frigate.  We  may,  perhaps,  creep  along 
under  the  shore  without  his  noticing  our  small 
craft." 

The  old  seaman  riveted  the  glass  upon  the 
stranger,  as  if  he  wished  to  count  every  sail  and 
plank.  During  the  examination,  he  grunted  twa 
or  three  inarticulate  ejaculations,  in  unison  with 
which  his  hard  features  underwent  various  con- 
tortions ;  and  his  young  commander  waited  with 
no  little  impatience  fur  what  he  called  his  "  over- 
hauling." 

"  She's  neither  more  nor  less  than  that  infernal 
'  Epervier,'  commanded  by  L'Estrange.  She'a 
one  of  the  fastest  sailers  in  their  navy ;  and  as 
fur  our  creeping  past  her  without  being  seen,, 
he's  the  wrong  sort  o'  man  for  that  fun :  herring 
or  whale,  all's  fish  for  his  net !" 

"  I  have  often  heard  of  him,"  said  Ethelston 
"  they  say  he's  a  fine  fellow." 

"  "That  he  is,  >o  give  the  devil  his  due,  as  jolly 
an  old  dog  as  ever  lived,  and  much  too  good  a 
seaman  for  a  Mnunseer.  Ix)ok'ee  there,  cap- 
tain," added  he,  after  another  squint  through  the 
glass ;  "  he's  altering  iiis  course  already — two 
or  three  points  free,  and  the  reefs  shaken  out  o* 
the  tops'ls.     We  shall  hear  from  him  fcon." 

"  Can  we  give  him  the  slip  by  bearing  up  for 
the  eastern  passage ! — We  should  then  show 
him  our  tail ;  and  a  stern  chase  is  a  long  one." 

"  We  might  try  iT  you  wish  it,  captain  ;  but 

it  blows  fresh,  and  she  won't  be  very  fond  of 

I  tills  lee  shore.    I  think,  if  you  allow  me  to  ad- 


tt 


THE   PRAIRIEBIRD. 


wise,  we'd  better  hug  it  ;  take  the  chance  of  a 
Inng  sliot  in  rounding  thut  himdlRnJ,  and  then 
run  for  the  inner  channel  liehind  the  Ule  of 
I'jnes  He'll  not  be  afVor  following  un  there  ; 
or,  if  he  does,  the  frigate's  keel  will  chance  to 
scrape  acquaintance  with  a  reef" 

"  You  are  right,  Gregsun,"  said  Ethelstnn. 
"  The  pride  may  fetch  that  point  on  this  tack. 
Keep  a  close  lufT,  Harrison." 

"  LufT  it  is,  sir,"  v/an  the  reply,  as  Ethelston 
went  below  to  consult  his  chart,  and  to  prepare 
himself  for  entering  the  intricate  channel  be- 
tween the  Isia  de  Finos  and  the  main  island. 

The  gallant  little  brig  well  sustained  her  high 
character  as  a  sailer,  and  dashed  her  bows  fear- 
lessly through  the  foaming  waves,  under  a  press 
of  canvass  such  as  few  vessels  of  her  tonnage 
could  have  borne.  The  breeze  was  freshening, 
and  the  frigate  now  shaped  her  course  with  the 
evident  intention  of  cutting  off  the  chase  from 
rounding  the  headland  beliire  mentioned. 

The  men  on  board  the  bri,!  were  now  clus- 
tered forward,  anxiously  debating  the  probable 
issue ;  while  Cucip  steamed  away  in  his  ca- 
boose, preparing  the  dinner  as  quietly  as  if  there 
had  been  no  frigate  to  windward,  nor  a  rock- 
bnund  shore  to  leeward  ;  but  though  he  seemed 
Uius  busied  in  his  usual  avocation^  he  cast  ev- 
ery now  and  then  his  dark  eye  upon  the  Eper- 
vier ;  and  few  on  board  could  estimate  belter 
than  himself  the  danger  of  their  situation. 

Ethelston  having  finished  a  careful  examina- 
tion of  his  chart,  now  came  on  deck,  and  a  sin- 
gle glance  sufliced  to  shew  him  that  he  could 
not  round  the  point  a-head  without  coming 
within  range  of  the  frigate's  guns:  hut  the  brig 
had  kept  her  offing,  and  he  had  little  doubt  of 
her  making  good  her  escape,  unless  she  were 
crippled  by  a  shot  from  the  enemy. 

The  Epervier  now  hoisted  her  colours  lor  the 
hrig  to  heave-to  ;  and  that  being  disregarded, 
fihe  fired  a  shot  which  fell  short  of  her  bows. 
Finding  that  no  notice  was  taken  of  this  LTs- 
trange  ordered  his  first  lieutenant  to  fire  t.  the 
saucy  brig  in  good  earnest,  to  bring  her  •«  her 
senses.  Fortunately  for  the  latter,  there  wau 
a  short,  angry  sea  running,  and  the  distance  be- 
ing considerable,  the  first  shot  did  not  take  ef- 
fect. Seviiral  of  the  hands  on  board  the  brig 
had  sr-ved  in  men-of-war  ;  these  were  now 
oracl<  s  among  their  messmates,  and  they  look- 
b(l  with  some  anxiety  at  their  young  captain, 
curious  to  see  how  he  would  behave  under  fire, 
for  they  believed  he  had  never  smelt  powder  : 
and  although  strict  and  firm  in  his  command, 
he  was  usually  so  gentle  and  quiet  in  his  man- 
ner, that  they  considered  him  rather  a  studious 
than  a  fighting  character.  Their  curiosity  was 
not,  however,  much  gratified  ;  for  Ethelston, 
without  appearing  to  notice  the  frigate,  kept  his 
eye  steadily  fixed  on  the  cape  ahead  ;  and  after  a 
brief  «ilence,  he  said,  "  Gregsontherc'sa  strong 
current  which  sets  in  shore  here,  '  the  Pride' 
cannot  weather  that  point  on  this  tack." 

"  You  are  right,  sir,"  said  the  mate  ;  L'Es- 
trange  has  got  his  bristles  up,  he  is  nearing  us 
every  minute,  and  if  we  carry  on  this  course, 
in  another  half  hour,  both  will  go  ashore." 

"  Ha !"  exclaimed  the  young  captain,  the  co- 
lour rising  in  his  cheek,  as  a  sudden  thought 
flashed  across  him.  "  If  we  could  ensure  that 
both  would  go  to  pieces  among  those  breakers, 


it  would  be  b  glorious  death  for  the  little  brig  to 
die  !" 

He  spoke  these  words  in  an  under  tone,  and 
rather  musing  to  himself  than  addressing  his 
officer.  The  latter,  however,  overheard  them, 
and  looked  at  him  with  an  astonishment  which 
he  could  not  repress  ;  for  he  also  knew  as  littln 
as  the  crew,  of  the  determined  courage  that  re 
posed  under  the  calm  and  quiet  demeanour  ot 
his  young  commander.  Again  a  wreath  nf 
smoke  issued  from  the  bows  of  the  frigate,  and 
a  round  shot  passed  through  the  rigging  of  the 
chase,  doing  fortunately  no  material  damage, 
but  proving  that  they  were  now  within  easy 
range. 

"  I  fear  it  will  not  do,  sir,"  said  the  mate  in 
reply  to  Ethelston's  last  words ;  "she  can  pep- 
cr  away  at  us,  and  yet  make  her  offing  good." 

"  Then  there  remains  but  one  chance  for  us," 
said  the  captain;  "answer  her  signal,  show 
your  colours,  'bout  ship,  and  stand  for  the  frig- 
ate." 

The  mate  was,  if  possible,  more  surprised 
at  this  order  than  he  had  been  before  at  the  pro- 
|)08al  to  try  and  cast  both  vessels  ashore  ;  but 
be  was  ton  good  a  seaman  to  hesitate  or  to  ask 
any  questions ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  gal- 
lant little  brig  had  answered  the  signal,  and 
was  standing  out  towards  the  frigate  on  the 
starboard  tack. 

We  wii'  'Miw  transport  the  reader  for  a  few 
minutes  uij  board  Epervier,  and  make  him  ac- 
quainted VH  the  captain,  into  whose  clutches 
the  po^^r   little  brig  seemed   destined  to  full 

Ii'Estr<<iige  was  u  fine-looking,  middle-aged 
man,  whc  h.,d  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life 
at  sea,  and  h&d  married,  when  very  young,  a 
Spanish  creole,  whose  beauty  was  her  only 
dower;  he  bad  several  children  by  this  marriage 
the  eldest  of  whom  was  now  a  lieutenant  on 
board  his  ship;  the  remainder  of  the  family  re- 
sided at  Point  i  Pitre,  in  GuadalL'ipe,  for  the 
captain  was  in  truth  rather  of  the  '  ancien  re- 
gime ;'  he  hived  his  country,  but  he  hated  the 
Directory  and  other  fruits  of  the  French  Revo- 
lution ;  so  that  he  never  went  to  Europe,  and 
would  have  been  but  rarely  employed  had  he 
not  been  known  to  be  one  of  the  most  skilful 
and  experienced  officers  in  the  French  navy 
Such  was  the  man  who  now  stood  on  the  frig- 
ate's quarter-deck,  and  »f\er  examining  "  The 
Pride"  again  through  his  glass,  turned  to  his 
first-lieutenant  and  desired  him  to  cease  firing 
"  That  obstinate  trader,"  he  added,  "  seemed 
very  anxious  to  escape,  and  thought  but  little 
of  the  risk  she  ran  of  going  ashore,  or  of  being 
riddled  by  our  shot  !" 

"  She's  one  of  those  saucy  Americans,"  said 
the  lieutenant,  "  that  think  nothing  afloat  can 
match  'em  ;  however  she's  made  a  mistake  thi$ 
lime,  and  I  hope,  sir,  when  she's  overhauled, 
she'll  prove  worth  the  trouble  she's  given  !" 

The  frigate,  by  this  time,  finding  herself  ton 
cloM'  in  on  a  lee  shore,  hauled  to  the  wind,  and 
diBlikIng  the  broken  and  rugged  appearance  oi 
the  coast,  determined  not  to  lie-to  for  the  bri|; 
until  she  had  made  sufficient  offing.  This  was 
precisely  the  calculation  that  Ethelston  had 
made  ;  and  he  now  paced  his  deck  with  a  calm 
and  satisfied  countenance,  while  his  men. 
grouped  on  the  forecastle,  were  quite  at  a  loss 
to  discover  his  intentions ;  the  mate,  howevc- 


ihfl  little  brig  to 

indcr  tone,  and 
flildrnsdinii  his 
verhranl  ihpm, 
iiighment  whic-h 
()  knew  08  littln 
;ourago  that  rn- 
t  demeanour  ol 
n  a  wreath  nf 
the  Trigate,  and 
e  rigging  or  the 
aterial  damage, 
)w  within  easy 

laid  the  mate  in 
;  "  she  can  pep- 
ir  offing  good." 
s  chance  for  us," 
er  signal,  show 
and  for  the  frig- 
more  surprised 
lefore  at  the  pro- 
sets  ashore  ;  but 
icsitate  or  to  mV. 
minutes  the  gal- 
the  signal,  and 
I  frigate  on   the 

reader  for  a  few 
id  make  liim  ac- 
)  whose  clutchci) 
destined  to  full 
ing,  middle-aged 
ter  part  of  his  life 
en  very  young,  a 
y   was   her  only 
I  by  this  marriage 
'  a  lieutenant  on 
of  the  family  re- 
idalt'ipe,  for  the 
the    '  ancien  re- 
but he  hated  the 
he  French  Revo- 
to  Europe,  and 
irnployed  had  he 
the  most  skilful 
■>e  French  navy 
ilood  on  the  frig- 
examining  "  The 
88,  turned  to  his 
1)  to  cease  firing, 
added,  "  seemed 
bought  but  little 
liore,  or  of  being 

\iTierican8,"  said 
othing  afloat  can 
ide  a  mistake  this 
ihe's  overhauled, 
she's  given !" 
nding  lierself  too 
to  the  wind,  and 
id  appearanoe  of 
e-to  for  the  bri){ 
Piling.  This  was 
Ethelstoii  had 
deck  with  a  calm 
while  his  men. 
re  quite  at  a  loss 
male,  howevc- 


f 


THE  PRAIRIE-Bt  R  U. 


vraa  clearer  sighted,  and'coiild  not  withhold  his 
admiration  from  the  decision  and  boldness  of  a 
miiniBUvre,  the  success  of  which  must  soon  be 
tested. 

The  captain  of  the  frigato  went  below  to  din- 
ner, having  given  orders  to  tho  lieutenant  to 
stand  out  on  the  same  lack  lor  another  half  hour, 
then  to  lie-to  until  the  brig  should  come  along- 
side. 

Meantime,  Ethelston,  who  had  kept  his  eye 
fixed  upon  the  head-land  so  often  mmlioned, 
muttering  to  himself,  "she  will  fetch  it  now," 
desired  the  man  at  the  helm,  to  yaw  the  brig 
aboui,  to  throw  her  up  now  and  then  In  the 
wind,  so  as  to  fall  astern  of  the  frigate  as  much 
as  ptissible,  yet  not  apparently  varying  the 
course.  Having  done  so  as  long  as  he  judged 
it  practicable  without  awakening  the  enemy's 
suspicion,  he  saw,  to  his  inexpressible  delight, 
the  frigate  shorten  sail  to  enable  him  to  come 
up ;  instantly  seizing  this  advantage,  he  order- 
ed his  mate  to  put  the  brig  about,  and  run  for 
the  Isle  of  Pines.  It  may  well  he  imagined  that 
this  bold  manoeuvre  was  not  many  moments  un- 
perceived  onboard  the  frigate  ;  and  L'Estrange's 
asiuiiishment  was  great,  when  from  the  noise 
overhead,  and  from  the  heeling  of  the  ship,  he 
found  that  her  course  was  altered.  Springing 
oil  deck,  he  saw  that  he  had  been  outwitted  by 
the  saucy  brig,  which  was  crowding  all  sail, 
and  seemed  not  unlikely  to  efTect  her  escape. 
The  old  captain  chafed,  and  stunned,  and  swore 
that  tho  obstinate  little  trader  should  pay  dear- 
ly for  her  insolence. 

The  Epervier  was  a  fast  sailer,  and  as  she 
now  dashed  the  spray  from  her  bows  under  a 
press  of  canvass,  it  was  soon  evident  that  the 
brig  could  not  yet  round  the  point  without  com- 
ing within  range  of  her  guns. 

Kihelston's  mind  was  now  made  up;  and 
finding  his  men  cheerful  and  inspirited  by  the 
success  of  his  manoeuvre,  he  yet  hoped  to  bring 
his  vessel  into  the  intricate  channel  behind  the 
island,  where  the  frigate  would  not  venture  to 
ifoilitw  ;  it  was  not  long  before  she  again  saluted 
liim,  and  one  of  the  shot  passing  through  the 
brig's  bulwarks  close  to  him,  shivered  the  bin- 
nacle into  a  hundred  pieces.    Observing  symp- 
toms of  uneasiness  in  the  man  at  the  helm,  and 
that  he  swerved  from  the  course,  Ethelston 
gave  him  a  stern  reproof,  and  again  desired 
llarrison  to  come  to  the  helm.    The  frigate, 
which  still  held  the  weather-gage,  seemed  now 
resolved  to  cut  oflf  the  brig  from  the  headland, 
and  to  sink  her  if  she  attempted  to  weather  it. 
.-Ethelston  saw  his  full  danger,  and  was  prepared 
-'  to  tneet  it ;  had  he  commanded  a  vessel  nf  war, 
.  however  small,  he  would  not  have  shrunk  from 
'the  responsibility  he  was  about  to  incur;  but, 
;  remembering  that  his  little  brig  was  but  a  trader, 
and  that  the  crew  ought  not  to  be  exposed  with- 
out their  own  consent  to  danger  so  imminent 
as  that  before  them,  he  desired  Gregson  to  call 
>  them  aft,  when  he  addressed  them  as  follows : 

"  My  lads, — you  see  the  scrape  we  are  in  ;  if 
f  we  can  round  that  point  we  may  yet  escape  but 
ltd  do  so,  we  must  run  within  a  few  hundred 
[  yards  of  the  frigate's  broadside.  What  say  you, 
I  <ny  lails,  shall  we  strike,  or  stand  the  chance  ? 

-a  French  prison,  or  hurrah  for  the  Balise  !" 
"  Hurrah  for  the  Balise,"  shouted  the  men, 
I  iiiiiniatcd  by  their  young  commander's  words 
C 


and  by  hm  >^tv«rleB»  iMirinf ;  «<  little  brig 

held  on  her  wav 

A  few  niiiiu  ved  that  t      md   neilh«r 

magnified  nor  uii         ii.>-d  tho  dar       ihitchn' 
gave  him  deep  water  round  the  iv*:<iilland  ,  Ma 
he  now  ordered  llarrison  to  keep  her  .iway,  ^>'>4 
let  her  run  clusu  in  shore,  thereby  incrciising  I  ;f 
speed,  and  the  distance  from  the  enemy 

The  surprise  and  wrath  of  L'Estrange,  at  <  ,» 
impudent  daring  of  a  craft  which  he  miw  per 
colved  to  be  really  nothing  but  an  insignillcaiii 
trader,  are  not  to  be  described.  He  bore  up 
after  her,  and  having  dcHired  thi<  men  to  stand 
to  their  guns,  generously  determined  to  givo  the 
saury  chase  one  more  chance,  but  finding  his 
repeated  signal  tor  her  to  heave-to,  disregarded, 
he  reluctantly  gave  the  order  to  fire.  Fortunate- 
ly for  "The  Pride,"  the  sea  was  running  high, 
and  naval  gunnery  had  not  then  reached  the 
perfection  which  it  has  since  attained ;  and 
though  her  rigging  was  cut  up  from  stem  to 
stern,  and  her  fore-topmast  was  shot  away,  and 
though  she  received  several  shot  in  her  hull,  she 
still  answered  her  helm,  and  gallantly  rounding 
the  point,  ran  in  shore,  and  was  in  a  few  min- 
utes among  shoals  which,  to  her  light  draught, 
were  not  dangerous,  but  where  it  would  have 
been  madness  in  the  frigate  to  follow. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Elhelstnn'i  further  Adventures  at  na,  and  how  he  be- 
came Cnptor  and  Cuptlve  In  a  very  short  space  o(  lime. 

It  seemed  almost  miraculous  that  not  a  man 
on  the  "  Pride  of  the  Ohio"  was  killed  by  the 
frigate's  broadside,  nor  was  one  wounded,  ex- 
cepting Ethelston,  who  received  a  slight  hurt  in 
the  left  arm  from  a  splinter ;  but  he  paid  no  at- 
tention to  it,  and  calmly  gave  all  the  requisite 
orders  for  repairing  the  damaged  spars  and  rig- 
ging- 

As  soon  as  all  was  made  snug,  he  let  the  men 
go  below  to  dinner,  and  leaning  over  the  shiver- 
ed bulwarks  of  his  little  craft,  seemed  busily  em- 
ployed in  counting  the  shot  that  had  struck  her ; 
but  his  eyes  were  for  a  time  fixed  upon  the  wa- 
ter, through  which  she  was  cutting  her  easy 
way,  and  his  thoughts  were  afar  off,  as  he  whis- 
pered almost  audibly  to  himself,  "Dear,  dear 
Lucy — your  namesake  is  wounded  and  disfig- 
ured, but  she  is  not  disgraced.  Thank  Heaven, 
no  Frenchman's  foot  has  yet  trodden  her  deck, 
and—" 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  Oregson,  who 
having  been  carefully  observing  the  frigate 
through  his  glass,  came  up  to  him,  and  said, 
"  Beg  pardon,  sir,  bat  she  is  getting  ready  her 
boats,  and  the  breeze  is  failing  fast ;  in  another 
hour  we  shall  have  scarce  a  cat's  paw. 

Ethelston  started  from  his  short  reverie,  and 
immediately  convinced  himself  that  the  mate 
spoke  the  truth  •.  "  You  are  right,"  said  he, 
"  but  we  have  a  good  hour  to  spare,  for  the  frig- 
ate is  nearly  becalmed.  Let  the  men  have  their 
dinner  quietly,  say  nothing  to  them  about  the 
matter,  and  give  'em  an  extra  glass  of  grog ;  but 
no  drunkenness,  Gregson ;  they  may  want  the 
full  use  of  their  heads  and  hands  to-night ;  send 
Cupid  to  my  cabin,  and  tell  him  to  bring  me  a 
slice  of  cold  meat  and  a  glass  of  Madeira." 


M 


THE  PRAIRIE- BIRD. 


I'  1.1 


So  Mying.  he  wf  nl  below ;  t)in  mute  lookp<l 
aftur  him,  and  turning  his  quid  three  or  four 
times  in  his  cheek,  he  muttered,  ■•  Damme  if  he 
makes  any  more  count  of  the  frigitle's  guns  or 
boats  than  a  bear  dues  of  a  beehive !  They 
spodt  as  good  a  commodore  as  ever  stepped  a 
deck  when  ihev  made  a  trading-skipper  of  him." 
Having  vented  this  characteristic  encomium  on 
his  young  commander,  the  old  seaman  went  for- 
ward to  execute  his  orders. 

Meanwhile  Ethelston,  consulting  his  chart, 
found  that  the  reefs  and  shoals  as  laid  down, 
rendered  the  navigation  of  the  coast  extremely 
dangerous  even  fur  the  light  draught  of  his  hrig : 
having  only  allowed  himself  a  few  minutes  fur 
refreshment,  he  again  went  on  deck,  and  ob- 
serving the  frigate  still  becalmed,  he  ordered  the 
mate  to  shorten  sail,  take  soundings,  and  to  de- 
sire the  carpenter  to  make  a  report  of  the  leak- 
age, or  any  other  serious  injury  sustained  by  the 
frigate's  shot. 

During  this  time  L'Estrange  was  not  idle  on 
board  llie  "  Epervier."  Nettled  at  the  success- 
ful trick  played  upon  him,  he  resiilved  as  the 
breeze  gradually  died  away  to  capture  the  chase 
with  his  budts  ;  for  this  duty  the  launch  am!  the 
pinnace  were  assigned  :  the  former  had  a  car- 
ronadu  and  twenty-five  hands,  and  was  com- 
manded by  his  son  ;  the  latter  had  a  swivel,  and 
thirteen  hands,  commanded  by  a  junior  lieuten- 
ant. The  object  of  L'Estrange  being  to  prevent 
an  unnecessary  effusion  of  bluotl,  by  sending  a 
force  slrong  enough  to  render  resistance  hope- 
less  on  the  part  of,  what  he  called,  a  dirty  little 
sugar-boat.  The  crew  of  The  Pride  of  Ohio, 
elated  by  the  success  of  their  Captain's  man- 
oeuvre, and  exhilarated  by  the  extra  grog  served 
out,  were  in  high  goml  humour,  and  laughing 
over  the  events  of  the  morning  with  reckless 
merriment,  when  they  received  an  order  from 
Ethelston  to  come  all.  On  their  obeying  the 
summons,  he  again  addressed  them  as  follows : 

"My  lads,  you  have  thus  far  done  your  duty 
like  men  ;  hut  our  work  is  not  yet  ever.  The 
Epervier  is  determined  to  sink  or  capture  «ur 
little  craft ;  she  is  now  getting  out  her  boats  for 
that  scvice ;  if  we  resist,  we  shall  have  warm 
work  .  f  it ;  if  we  strike  without  a  fight,  we  may 
rot  in  a  French  dungeon.  Again  I  ask  you,  my 
lads,  will  you  stick  by  The  Pride,  and  hurrah 
for  home,  or  a  sailor's  grave !" 

A  hearty  and  simultaneous  cheer  from  the 
crew  was  the  only  reply. 

"  I  knew  it,  my  lads,"  continued  Ethelston, 
his  countenance,  usually  so  calm,  now  glowing 
with  enthusiasm,  "  I  knew  that  you  would  not 
desert  her  while  she  could  float !  It  is  now  my 
duty  to  tell  you  that  she  has  received  two  awk- 
ward shots  just  between  wind  and  water  line, 
and  that  she  leaks  apace.  We  must  stop  them 
as  well  as  we  may;  but  be  prepared  for  the 
boats  of  the  Epervier ; — they  shall  at  least  buy 
us  a  dear  bargain !" 

Ethelston  now  called  the  mate,  and  gave  him 
full  instructions  for  the  plan  of  def'>nce  from  the 
expected  attack.  The  long  gun  and  the  carron- 
ades  were  got  ready  and  loaded,  the  former  with 
round  shot,  the  latter  with  grape ;  small  arms 
and  cutlasses  were  served  out  to  the  men.  and 
the  deck  cleared  of  everything  that  might  im- 
pe-]?  them  in  the  approaching  struggle.  Mean- 
time Ethelstot.  ordered  to  be  hoisted  a  new  en- 


sign, given  to  the  brig  by  T>ury,  undi  Mid  to  b» 
partly  worked  by  her  own  l^n  uiigni).  AssiMin 
as  It  was  run  up,  he  st^pt  aiutt  a  hoy,  with  order* 
to  nail  it  to  the  mast-liead.  which  was  dona 
amid  the  repeated  cheers  of  the  crew.  They 
were  not  long  kept  in  suspense  ;  the  breeze  had 
died  away  :  the  flapping  sails  and  creaking 
yards  gnve  the  usual  sullen  indications  of  a 
calm,  when  the  boats  from  the  E|iervier  advan- 
ced at  a  steady  and  measured  stroke  towards 
the  brig.  Ethelston  gave  the  long  gun  to  the 
charge  of  Gregson,  reserving  to  himself  that  of 
the  carronades;  he  issued  also  special  orders, 
not  to  fire,  under  any  circumstances,  until  ha 
gave  the  word,  or  in  case  he  fvli,  until  tliey  re- 
ceived the  ord«r  from  Ciregson,  who  would  suc- 
ceed him  in  the  command. 

During  all  these  preparations,  Cupid  appeared 
inditTerent  to  what  was  passing,  and  continued 
busily  occupied  with  his  pots  and  pans  in  the 
caboose.  This  conduct  caused  some  little  sur- 
prise in  Ethelston,  who  knew  that  the  black  was 
not  the  stupid  phlegmatic  character  that  he  now 
seemed;  and  he  accordingly  sent  Gregson  to> 
inquire  whether,  in  the  event  of  an  attack  from 
the  frigate's  boats,  he  meant  to  fight  1  desiring 
the  mete  at  the  same  time  to  offer  iiim  a  cutlass. 
The  African  grinned  when  he  received  this  mes- 
sage, and  replied  that  he  meant  to  do  bis  best. 
He  declined,  however,  the  profj'ered  cutlass,  in- 
forming the  mate,  that  he  bad  got  a  toasting- 
fork  of  his  own,  ready  for  the  Muunsecrs  ;  as  he 
said  this,  he  showed  him  the  fragment  of  a  cap- 
stan bar,  the  end  of  which  he  had  sharpened 
and  burnt  hard  in  the  hot  cinders ;  it  was  an 
unwieldly  kind  of  club,  and  in  the  hands  of  aoi 
ordinary  man,  could  have  been  but  of  little  ser- 
vice; bat  his  gigantic  strength  enabled  him  to 
wield  it  like  a  common  cudgel.  The  truth  is, 
that  Cupid  would  have  preferred  being  armed 
wiih  cutlass  and  pistol,  both  of  which  he  could 
use  as  well  as  any  man  on  hoard ;  but  he  had 
tact  enough  to  know  that  the  prejudit^e  against 
his  colour  forbad  his  taking  his  place  on  deck 
among  the  other  defenders  of  the  vessel. 

The  boats  being  now  within  hail,  Lieutenant 
L'Estrange  stood  up  in  the  launch  and  ordered 
the  brig  to  strike  her  colours,  and  receive  hinn 
on  board.  Finding  this  order  unheeded,  be  re- 
peated it  through  the  trumpet  in  a  sterner  tune, 
adding  that,  if  not  immediately  obeyed,  he 
should  fire  upon  her.  Not  a  man  stirred  on 
board  the  brig,  neither  was  any  reply  made  to 
the  lieutenant,  who  forthwith  discharged  the 
contents  of  his  carronade  into  her  hull,  by  which 
one  man  was  killed  dead,  and  two  were  wound- 
ed by  splinters  ;  be  then  desired  his  men  to  pull 
hard  for  the  brig  to  board  her,  while  others  had 
orders  to  (ire  small  arms  at  all  whom  they  could 
see  above  the  bulwarks.  The  boats  had  ap- 
proached within  fiAy  yards  before  Ethelston 
gave  the  word  to  fire.  Gregson  pointed  the 
long  gun  upon  the  smaller  boat  with  so  true  an 
aim  that  the  heavy  shot  went  clean  through  her, 
and  she  filled  and  went  down  in  a  few  minutes, 
the  survivors  of  her  crew  being  picked  up  by 
the  launch.  Meanwhile,  Ethelston  fired  a  vol- 
ley of  grape  into  the  latter  with  terrible  efTect, 
several  being  killed  on  the  spot,  and  many 
of  the  remainder  severely  wounded.  Nothing 
daunted  by  this  murderous  fire,  the  gallant 
young  lieutenant  held  on  his  way  to  the  brig, 


THK  PUAtifiF.inRn. 


nnH  ngn\n  ffiseharglnii  '•'■  enrronatV  at  th*"  dln- 
tanpt!  o(  only  ii  Ibw  yards,  her  ilinlifrs  w^rp 
fpHrfiillv  rent,  and  aiiiidat  iIip  smokR  and  confu- 
■iiii>  'tiereby  rrpait'd,  he  and  hi«  crpw  scranilili^d 
«p  III  '  aides  tu  hoard.  The  euinbat  waa  now 
hand  ID  hand  ;  nor  was  it  vpry,  tinequal,  ao 
mail  (i|  thP  Frwiu'hmpn  having  h«en  killed  ami 
Wounded  In  the  boats  ;  the/  w«r«'  strong  cnotigh, 
however,  to  mak<-  ginid  their  lnoling  on  deek. 
anil  int!h  by  inch,  they  forced  back  the  crew  of 
the  brig  Ethelston  lought  with  the  courage  of 
a  lion  ;  his  vojop  was  heard  'ihove  the  din  of  the 
fruy,  anitnatng  his  men  ;  and  several  of  the 
l<  ildest  of  thi!  enemy  had  already  felt  the  edge 
of  his  cutlass.  Nor  was  yoting  I.'EIstrangn  less 
gallant  in  his  attack,  and  his  followers  being 
more  nilmeroiiB  than  their  opponents,  drove 
them  back  gradimlly  by  main  force.  It  was  at 
this  nioiiient,  that  Cupid,  who  had  hitherto  re- 
mained unnoticed  in  his  caboose,  thought  fit  to 
commence  his  operations  ;  which  he  did  by 
throwing  a  great  pan  of  greasy  boiling  water 
over  three  or  four  of  the  assailants,  and  then 
laying  ;ibout  him  with  his  huge  club,  which  fell- 
ed a  man  almost  at  every  blow.  The  excrucia- 
ting pain  occasioned  by  the  hot  liquid,  together 
with  the  consternation  produced  by  this  unex- 
pected attack  in  their  rear,  completed  the  dis- 
may of  the  Frenchmen.  At  this  crisis  young 
I/Eslrango  slipped  and  fell  on  the  deck ;  Greg- 
son,  bestriding  him,  was  about  to  dispatch  him, 
when  Ethelston,  who  was  already  bleeding  from 
a  severe  cutlass  wound  in  the  forehead,  rushed 
forward  to  save  him  ;  but  the  infuriated  youth, 
perhaps  mistaking  his  intention,  drew  his  last 
remaining  pistol,  and  fired  with  so  true  an  aim, 
that  Ethelston's  left  arm  fell  powerless  at  his 
side.  A  flush  of  anger  came  over  his  counte- 
nance ;  but  seeing  Gregson  again  raising  his 
hand  to  dispateh  the  young  officer,  he  again  in- 
terposed, and  desired  the  mate  to  spare  him, — 
an  order  which  the  seaman  reluctantly  obeyed. 

Ethelston  now  entreated  L'Estrange  to  give 
up  his  sword,  and  to  save  farther  bloodshed ; 
and  the  young  man,  seeing  that  his  followers 
were  mostly  overpowered  and  wounded,  pre- 
sented it  with  a  countenance  in  which  grief  and 
shame  were  blended  with  indignation.  "Stay," 
said  Ethelston  ;  "  before  I  receive  your  sword, 
the  conditions  on  which  I  receive  it  are,  that 
you  give  your  parole,  that  neither  you  nor  any 
one  of  your  men  shall  bear  arms  against  the 
United  States,  during  the  continuance  of  this 
war,  whether  you  and  I  are  recaptured  or  not ; 
and  the  launch  becomes  my  prize." 

To  these  terms  the  youth  assented,  and  or- 
dered such  of  his  men  as  were  not  quite  disa- 
bled, to  lay  down  their  arms.  In  a  fev  min- 
utes, all  who  were  unhurt  were  busily  engaged 
in  tending  the  dying  and  wounded.  Fortunate- 
ly an  assistant-surgeon,  %/ho  had  volunteered 
on  this  service  from  the  frigate,  was  among 
those  unhurt,  and  he  set  about  his  professional 
duties  with  as  much  alacrity  as  if  he  had  been 
in  the  ward  of  a  hospital.  Cupid  retreated 
quietly  to  his  caboose,  and  Ethelston  continued 
giving  his  orders  with  the  same  clearness  and 
decision  that  had  marked  his  whole  conduct. 
Young  I/Estrange  looked  "ver  the  brig's  low 
sides  into  the  water;  his  lieart  was  too  full  for 
utterance ;  and  his  captor,  with  considerate 
kindness,  abstained  from  addressing  him.    The 


siirgpon,  (ibscrvinR  tfinf  the  hloo«l  still  flowed 
(roiii  Mic  wound  on  Ktbelston's  fcui-hcad,  aid 
thm  li  '"fi  arm  hung  at  hiit  side,  now  caiiii'  and 
ofTcrril  (ii«  .•<i  1  ■.  icPD  'rbniikinii  lii-n  murteous- 
ly,  111-  icpliid,  smilinij,  "  I  took  my  chance  of 
bounds  on  ecuial  Iprms  vvrth  tb(»sB  brave  fel- 
lows, iiMd  I  will  take  my  c'lmi<'<'e  tii  rure  on  P'jual 
terms  uls() ;  when  you  have  altehtt^d  to  all  ihoie 
who  are  more  spriously  linrt,  I  shall  be  happy  to 
avail  my»p|(  tif"  ymr  skill." 

The  siirgfoii  bowed  and  withdrew  An  audi- 
ble groan  burst  from  the  unhappy  I/Estrangn, 
but  still  lie  spoko  not ;  and  Ethelston  held  a 
brief  consultation  with  his  mate  and  the  car- 
peiiter,  the  result  of  which  was,  an  order  given 
to  the  former,  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  "  to  pre- 
pare immediately,  and  to  send  Cupid  to  him  in 
the  cabin."  • 

As  ho  was  going  down,  L'Estrange  came  to 
him,  and  asked  him,  confusedly,  and  with  an 
averted  countenance,  if  he  might  speak  to  him 
iilone  for  a  minute.  Ethelston  begged  him  to 
follow  him  into  his  cabin,  when,  having  shut 
the  door,  he  said,  "  M.  L'Estrange,  we  are 
alone,  pray  speak  j  is  there  anything  in  which 
I  can  serve  you." 

The  youth  ga/ed  on  him  for  a  mompnt,  in  an 
agony  that  could  not  yet  lind  relief  in  words, 
and  then  falling  on  the  floor,  burst  into  a  flood 
of  tears.  Ethelstim  was  moved  and  surprised 
at  this  violent  grief  in  one  whom  he  had  so 
lately  seen  under  the  influence  of  pride  and 
passion.  Taking  him  kindly  by  the  hand,  he 
said,  "  Pray  com"'>«ie  yourself!  these  are  mis- 
fortunes to  whicii  all  bravo  men  arc  liable. 
You  did  all  that  a  gallant  ofllcer  could  do; — 
success  is  at  the  disposal  of  a  higher  power ; 
you  will  meet  it  another  day." 

"  Never,  never !"  said  the  young  lieutenant, 
vehemently  ;  "the  loss  of  my  boat  is  nothing ; 
the  failure  of  our  attack  is  nothing;  btit  I  am  a 
dishonoured  coward,  and  Heaven  itself  cannot 
restore  a  tainted  honour!" 

"  Nay,  nay,"  replied  Ethelston ;  "  you  must 
not  say  so.  I  maintain  that  you  and  your  crew 
fought  gallantly  till  every  hope  of  success  was 
gone— the  bravest  can  do  no  morel" 

"  You  are  blindly  generous,"  said  the  youth, 
passionately  ;  "  you  will  not  understand  me  1 
When  every  hope  was  gone — when  I  lay  at 
the  mercy  of  your  mate's  cutlass — yi  i  sprang 
forward  tu  save  my  life. — I,  like  a  savage^a 
monster — a  coward  as  I  am, — flred  and  tried  to 
kill  you ; — even  then,  without  a  word  of  anger 
or  reproach,  you,  although  wounded  by, my  pis- 
tol, again  interposed,  and  saved  me  from  the 
death  I  deserved.  Oh,  ^ould  that  I  had  dieil 
an  hundred  deaths  rather  than  have  lived  tp 
such  disgrace !" 

And  again  the  unhappy  young  officer  Iniried 
his  face  in  his  hands,  while  his  whole  Crame 
still  trembled  convulsively  with  grief.  Ethel- 
ston used  every  exertion  to  soothe  and  alia/ 
his  agitation.  He  assured  him  th''jt  the  wound 
he  had  received  was  not  serious,  that  the  pistol 
was  fired  under  a  strong  excil'jment,  and  in  the 
turmoil  of  a  bloody  fray,  when  no  man's  thoughts 
are  sutflciently  collected  to  regulate  his  con- 
duct ;  and  he  forgave  hiim  so  freely  and  min- 
gled his  forgiveness  with  so  many  expressions 
of  kindness  and  esteem,  that  he  succeeded  at 
length  in  restoring  him  to  a  certain  degree  of 


/ 


86 


THE   PR4IIRIEBIRD. 


composure.  Nothing,  however,  would  satisfy 
L'Estrange  but  that  he  should  have  his  wounds 
instantly  dressed  ;  and  he  ran  hinnself  and  sum- 
moned the  surgeon,  resolving  to  be  present  at 
the  operation. 

When  Eihelston's  clothes  were  removed,  it 
appeared  that  besides  a  few  flesh  cuts  of  no 
great  consequence,  he  had  received  two  severe 
shot  wounds:  one  from  a  musket-ball,  which 
had  sunk  deep  into  the  lell  shoulder,  the  other 
from  L'Estrange's  pistol,  by  which  the  bone  of 
the  left  arm  was  broken.  The  latter  was  soon 
set  and  bandaged  ;  but  the  ball  could  not  be 
extracted  from  the  former,  either  because  the 
surgeon's  skill  was  not  equal  to  the  task,  or 
from  his  not  having  with  him  the  instruments 
requisite  fur  the  operation.  As  soon  as  this 
was  over,  Ethelston  dismissed  the  surgeon  ; 
and  turning  good-humouredly  to  L'Estrange, 
he  said,  "  Now,  my  young  friend,  I  want  your 
assistance  I  must  lose  no  time  in  putting  all 
our  men  aboard  the  launch,  and  taking  in  as 
many  stores  and  necessaries  as  she  will  hold, 
fur  this  brig  is  doomed ;  your  swivel  and  the 
frigate's  guns  have  finished  her;  she  is  fast 
settling  down,  and  in  a  couple  of  hours  I  expect 
her  to  sink." 

"On  my  word,  sir,"  said  L'Estrange,  "you 
will  pardon  me  if  I  say,  that  you  are  the  stran- 
gest gentleman  that  I  ever  yet  knew  to  com- 
mand a  trading  brig !  You  out-manoeuvre  a 
frigate,  capture  her  boats,  fight  as  if  you  had 
done  nothing  but  fight  all  your  life,  sit  as  quiet 
under  that  surgeon's  probes  and  tortures  as  if 
you  were  eating  your  dinner,  and  now  talk 
calmly  of  scuttling  your  brig,  for  which  you 
have  run  all  these  risks !" 

"  It  is  my  philosophy,  Monsieur  TE'trangfi.  I 
tried  first  to  get  away  without  fighting  ;  when 
that  was  impossible,  I  fought  as  well  as  I  could. 
What  has  happened  since,  and  what  is  yet  to 
come,  I  bear  as  well  as  I  can !  All  that  I  ask 
of  you  (8  to  keep  your  fellows  in  order,  and 
make  them  assist  mine  in  removing  the  wound- 
ed and  the  requisite  stores  on  board  the  launch." 
So  saying,  and  again  saluting  his  prisoner,  he 
went  on  deck. 

Though  he  struggled  thus  manfully  against 
his  emotion,  it  was  with  a  heavy  heart  that 
Ethelston  prepared  to  bid  a  final  adieu  to  his 
little  vessel,  which  he  loved  much  for  her  own 
sake, — more  perhaps  for  the  name  she  bore. 
While  giving  the  necessary  orders  for  this 
melancholy  duty,  his  attention  was  called  by 
Gregson  to  a  sail  that  was  coming  up  with  the 
light  evening  breeze  astern.  One  look  through 
die  glass  sufficed  to  shew  him  that  she  hoisted 
French  colours ;  and  L'Estrange,  who  now 
fame  on  deck,  immediately  knew  her  to  be  the 
h'ir«ndelle, — an  armed  cutter  that  acted  on  this 
crn.'se  as  a  tender  to  the  Epcrvier.  A  momen- 
tary ^.''Jovir  overspread  the  countenance  of  Ethel- 
ston, as'  he  felt  that  resistance  was  hopeless, 
and  that  in  another  hour  his  brig  would  be  sunk, 
and  his  brawd  crew  prisoners.  But  being  too 
proud  to  alfow  the  French  officer  to  see  his 
emotion,  he  curttrolled  it  by  a  powerful  effort, 
and  continued  tog^ve  his  orders  with  his  accus- 
tomed coolness  and  precision. 

Though  young  L'EstruDge's  heart  beat  high 
at  this  sudden  and  unlookad-for  deliverance,  he 
could  not  forbear  his  admiration  at  his  captor's 


aelf-posssssion  ;  and  his  own  joy  was  damped 
by  the  remembrance  of  that  portion  of  his  own 
conduct  which  he  had  so  deeply  lamented,  and 
also  of  the  parole  he  had  given  not  to  bear  arms 
again  during  the  war.  Meantime  the  removal 
of  the  men,  the  stores,  provisions,  and  papers 
from  the  bri^  went  on  with  the  greatest  order 
and  dispatch. 

Ethelston  was  the  last  to  leave  her ;  previous 
to  his  doing  so,  he  made  the  carpenter  knock 
out  the  oakum  and  other  temporary  plugs  with 
which  he  had  stopped  the  leaks,  being  deter- 
mined that  she  should  not  fall  into  the  hands 
of  the  French.  This  being  completed,  the  launch 
shoved  off;  and  while  pulling  heavily  for  the 
shore,  the  crew  looked  in  gloomy  silence  at 
their  ill-fated  brig.  Ethelston  was  almost  un- 
manned ;  for  his  heart  and  his  thoughts  were 
on  Ohio's  banks,  and  he  could  not  separate  the 
recollections  of  Lucy  from  the  untimely  fate  of 
her  favourite  vessel.  He  gazed  until  his  sight 
and  brain  grew  dizzy  ;  he  fancied  that  he  saw 
Lucy's  form  on  the  deck  of  the  brig,  and  that 
she  stretched  her  arms  to  him  for  aid.  Even 
while  he  thus  looked,  the  waters  poured  fast 
into  their  victim.  She  settled,— sank  ;  and  in 
a  few  minutes  scarce  a  bubble  on  their  surface 
told  where  the  Pride  of  Ohio  had  gone  down  1 
A  groan  burst  from  Ethelston's  bosom.  Nature 
could  no  longer  endure  the  accumulated  weight 
of  fatigue  and  intense  pain  occasioned  by  his 
wounds  :  he  sank  down  insensible  in  the  boat, 
and  when  he  recovered  his  senses,  found  him- 
self a  prisoner  on  board  the  Hirondelle. 

Great  had  been  the  surprise  of  the  lieutenant 
who  commanded  her  at  the  disappearance  of 
the  brig  which  he  had  been  sent  to  secure ;  and 
greater  still  at  the  condition  of  the  persons 
found  on  board  the  launch.  His  inquiries  were 
answered  by  young  L'Estrange  with  obvious 
reluctance :  so  having  paid  the  last  melancholy 
duties  to  the  dead,  and  afforded  all  the  assist- 
ance in  his  power  to  the  wounded,  he  put  about 
the  cutter,  and  made  sail  for  the  Epervier. 

.\8  soon  as  young  L'Estrange  found  himself 
on  the  frigate's  deck,  he  asked  for  an  immedi- 
ate and  private  audience  of  his  lather,  to  whom 
he  detailed  without  reserve  all  the  circumstan- 
ces of  the  late  expedition.  He  concluded  his 
narration  with  the  warmest  praises  of  Ethel- 
ston's courage,  conduct,  and  humanity,  while 
he  repeated  that  bitter  censure  of  his  own  beha- 
viour which  he  had  liefore  expressed  nn  board 
the  Pride  of  Ohio.  The  gallant  old  Captain, 
though  mortified  at  the  failure  of  the  enterprise 
and  the  loss  of  men  that  he  had  sustained,  could 
not  but  appreciate  the  candour,  and  feel  for  the 
mortification  of  his  favourite  son ;  and  he  readi- 
ly promised  that  Ethelston  should  be  treated 
with  the  greatest  care  and  kindness,  and  that 
the  must  favourable  terms,  consistent  with  his 
duty,  should  he  offered  to  the  prisoners. 

Young  L'Estrange  gave  up  his  own  berth  to 
Ethelston,  whose  severe  suflerrngs  had  been 
succeeded  by  a  weakness  and  lethargy  yet  more 
dangerous.  The  surgeon  was  ordered  tn  at- 
tend him ;  and  his  care  was  extended  to  all  the 
wounded,  without  distinction' of  country. 

A  tier  a  few  days  Captain  I'Estrange  deter- 
mined to  exchange  Gregson,  the  mate,  and  (he 
remainder  of  the  brig's  crew,  for  some  French 
prisoners  lately  taken  by  an  American  priva- 


THE    PRAIRIEBIRD. 


37 


was  damped 
1  of  his  own 
merited,  and 
to  bear  arms 
the  removal 
,  and  papers 
eatest  order 

er;  previous 
lenter  knock 
y  plugs  with 
being  deter- 

0  the  hands 
d,  the  launch 
tvily  for  the 
Y  silence  at 

1  almost  un- 
oughts  were 
separate  the 
mely  Tate  of 
itil  his  sight 
that  he  saw 
rig,  and  that 
'  aid.    Even 

poured  fast 
ank ;  and  in 
iheir  surface 
gone  down ! 
im.  Nature 
lated  weight 
ioned  by  his 
in  the  boat, 
,  found  him- 
elle. 

le  lieutenant 

pearance  of 

secure;  and 

the  persons 

quiries  were 

viih  obvious 

melancholy 

1  the  assist- 

ie  put  about 

ervier. 

md  himself 

an  immedi- 

Br,  to  whom 

circumstan- 

ncluded  his 

■8  of  Ethel- 

nity,  while 

own  beha- 

1  on  board 

Id  Captain, 

enterprise 

lined,  could 

feel  for  the 

id  he  readh 

be  treated 

),  and  that 

nt  with  bis 

srs. 

'n  berth  to 
bad  been 
y  yet  more 
red  to  at- 
I  to  all  the 
itry. 

nge  deter- 
:e,  and  (he 
ne  French 
can  priva- 


teer; they  were  accordingly  placed  for  that 
purpose  on  board  the  cutter,  and  sent  to  New- 
Orleans.  Young  L'Estrange  having  learned 
fr«m  the  mate  the  address  of  Colonel  Brandon 
and  his  connection  witii  Etheiston,  wrote  him  a 
letter,  in  which  he  mentioned  the  latter  in  the 
highest  and  most  affectionate  terms,  assuring 
the  Colonel  that  he  should  be  treated  as  if  he 
were  his  own  brother ;  and  that,  although  the 
danger  arising  from  his  wounds  rendered  it  ab- 
solutely necessary  that  he  should  return  to 
Guadaloupe  with  the  frigate,  his  friends  might 
rely  upon  his  being  tended  with  the  same  care 
as  if  he  had  been  at  home.  Cupid,  at  his  own 
urgent  entreaty,  remained  with  his  master,  tak- 
ing charge  of  all  his  private  baggage  and  papers. 

We  need  not  follow  the  fate  of  the  cutter  any 
farther  than  to  say  that  she  reached  her  desti- 
nation in  safety  ;  that  the  proposed  exchange 
was  effected,  and  the  prisoners  restored  to 
their  respective  homes. 

The  surgeon  on  board  the  Epervier  succeeded 
at  length  in  taking  out  the  ball  lodged  in  Ethel- 
ston's  shoulder,  and  when  they  arrived  at  Gua- 
daloupe, he  pronounced  his  patient  out  of  dan- 
ger, but  enjoined  the  strictest  quiet  and  con- 
finement, till  his  recovery  should  bn  farther 
advanced.  The  ardent  young  L'Estrange  no 
sooner  reached  home  than  he  prevailed  on  his 
father  to  receive  Etheiston  into  his  own  house. 
He  painted  to  his  sister  Nina,  a  girl  of  seven- 
teen, the  sutferings  and  the  heroism  of  their 
guest,  in  the  most  glowing  qolours ;  he  made 
her  prepare  for  him  the  most  refreshing  and  re- 
storing beverages  ;  he  watched  for  hours  at  the 
side  of  his  couch  ;  in  short,  he  lavished  upon 
him  all  those  marks  of  affection  with  which  a 
hasty  and  generous  nature  loves  to  make  repa- 
ration for  a  wrong.  In  all  these  attentions  and 
endeavours,  he  was  warmly  seconded  by  Nina, 
who  made  her  brother  repeat  more  than  once, 
the  narrative  of  the  defence  and  subsequent  loss 
of  the  brig.  How  Ethelston's  recovery  pro- 
ceeded under  the  care  of  the  brother  and  sister 
shall  be  told  in  another  chapter. 


'       .  CHAPTER  XH.  .".- 

Villi  of  WIngcnund  to  Mooahanne.  He  rejoins  Wnr- 
Eagle,  iind  they  return  to  their  band  in  the  fnr-west. 
M.  Perrnt  nittlces  an  untuccesiful  attucic  on  the  heart 
of  a  young  iady. 

We  must  now  return  to  Mooshanne,  where 
Colonel  Brandon  received  Wingcnund  very 
kindly ;  and  within  half  an  hour  of  the  arrival 
of  the  party,  they  were  all  seated  at  his  hospi- 
table board,  whereon  smoked  venison  steaks, 
various  kinds  of  fowls,  a  suhstantial  ham,  cakes 
of  rice,  and  Indian  maize.  On  the  side-table 
were  cream,  wild  honey,  cheese,  and  preserved 
fruits,  aii  these  delicacies  being  admirably 
served  under  the  superintendence  of  Aunt'Ma- 
ry,  who  was  delighted  with  Wingenund,  praised 
the  extreme  beauty  of  his  eyes  and  features, 
telling  the  Colonel,  in  a  whisper,  that  if  she  had 
been  thirty-five  years  younger,  she  should  have 
been  afraid  of  losing  her  heart  I  The  youth 
was  indeed  the  hero  of  the  day  ;  ail  were  grate- 
ful to  him  for  his  gallant  presorvatiou  of  Regi- 
nald's life,  and  all  strove  with  equal  anxiety  to 
make  hiin  forget  that  nc  was  among  strangers. 


I  Nor  was  the  task  difficult ;  for  though  he  had 
only  tiio  use  of  one  hand,  it  was  surprising  to 
see  the  tact  and  self-possession  with  which  he 
conducted  himself,  the  temperate  quietness 
with  which  he  ate  and  drank,  and  the  ease  with 
which  he  handled  some  of  the  implements  at 
table,  which  he  probably  saw  lor  the  first  time. 
Baptiste  was  a  privileged  person  in  the  Colonel's 
house,  and  was  allowed  to  dine  as  he  pleased, 
either  with  its  master,  or  with  Perrot  and  the 
other  servants.  On  this  occasion,  he  was  pre- 
sent in  the  dining-room,  and  seemed  to  take  a 
pleasure  in  drawing  out  the  young  Delaware, 
and  in  making  him  talk  on  subjects  which  he 
knew  would  be  interesting  to  the  rest  of  the 
party.  Wingenund  was  quiet  and  reserved  in 
his  replies,  except  when  ii-question  was  put  to 
him  by  Lucy,  to  whom  he  gave  his  answers 
with  the  greatest  naievete,  telling  her  more 
than  once,  that  she  reminded  him  of  his  sister 
Prairie-hird,  but  that  the  latiar  was  taller,  and 
had  darker  hair.  While  addressing  her,  he  kept 
his  large  speaking  eyes  so  riveted  upon  Lucy's 
countenance,  that  she  cast  her  own  to  the 
ground,  almost  blushing  at  the  boy's  earnest 
and  admiring  gaze.  To  relieve  herself  from 
embarrassment,  she  again  inquired  about  this 
mystericus  sister,  saying,  "Tell  me,  Winge- 
nund, has  she  taught  you  to  read,  as  well  as  to 
speak  our  tongue." 

"No,"  said  the  youth;  "Prairie-bird  talks 
with  the  Great  Spirit,  and  with  paper  liouks.  and 
so  does  the  Black  rather ;  hut  Wingenund  cannot 
understand  them, — he  is  only  a  poor  Indian." 

Here  Reginald,  whose  cariosity  was  much 
excited,  inquired,  "  Does  the  Prairie-bird  look 
kindly  on  the  young  chiefs  of  the  tribe  ! — Will 
she  be  the  witie  of  a  chief!" 

There  was  something  both  of  surprise  and 
scorn  in  Wingenund's  countenance,  as  he  re- 
plied, "  Prairie-bird  is  kind  to  all — the  young 
chiefs  find  wives  among  the  daughters  of  the 
Delawares ; — but  the  antelope  mates  not  'with 
the  moose,  though  they  feed  on  the  same  prai- 
rie. The  Great  Spirit  knows  where  the  Prai- 
rie-hird was  born  ;  but  her  race  is  unknown  to 
the  wise  men  among  the  Tortoises." 

Reginald  and  his  sister  were  equally  at  a  loss 
to  understand  his  meaning ;  both  looked  inqui- 
ringly at  the  Guide,  who  was  rubbing  his  ear, 
as  if  rather  puzzled  by  the  young  Delaware's 
answer.  At  length,  he  said,  "  Why,  Miss  Lucy, 
you  see,  much  of  what  the  lad  says  is  as  plain 
to  me  as  the  sight  on  my  rifle  :  for  the  tribes  of 
the  Lenapc  are  as  well  known  to  me  as  tha 
lotems  of  the  Oggibeways.  The  Great  natioa 
is  divided  into  three  tribes: — the  Minsi,  or  thci 
Wolf-tribe  (sometimes  called  also  Puncsit,  or 
round-foot) ;  the  Unalacticos,  or  the  Turkey- 
tribe,  and  the  Unamis,  or  the  Tortoise-tribe. 
The  last  are  considered  the  principal  and  most 
ancient;  and  as  Wingenund's  family  are  of  this 
l)and.  he  spoke  just  now  of  their  wise  men. 
But  who,  or  wnai  kir.'  o'  erittiir  this  Prairie- 
bird  can  be,  would  puzzle  a  Philadelphy  lawyer 
to  tell,  let  alone  a  poor  hunter  who  knows  little 
out  of  the  line  of  his  trade." 

"  Then,  Baptiste,"'  said  Lucy,  smiling ;  "  your 
trade  is  a  pretty  extensive  one,  for  I  think  you 
have  more  knowledge  in  your  head  ou  imut 
sui)jecis  than  half  the  lawyers  and  clerks  in  the 
Territory." 


38 


THE    PRAIRTE-BIRD. 


N^ 


i 

i  -.1 


"  There  it  is,  Miss  Lucy  ;  you're  always  a  ] 
givin'  me  a  little  dose  of  flattery,  just  as  I  give 
my  patches  a  bit  of  grease  to  make  the  Doctor 
swallow  his  lead  pills.  You  ladies  think  we're 
all  alike, — young  sparks,  and  lough  old  chaps 
like  me, — if  you  do  hut  dip  our  fingers  into  the 
honey-pot,  you  know  we  shall  lick  them  as  soon 
as  your  hacks  are  turned  !  But  it  is  getting  late," 
he  added,  rising  from  his  seat ;  "  and  I  have 
much  to  say  to  this  youth,  who  is  already  tired ; 
with  your  leave.  Miss,  I  will  retire  with  him, 
and  see  that  he  has  a  comfortable  sleeping- 
quarter,  and  that  he  wants  for  nothing." 

"  Pray  do  so,"  said  Lucy ;  "  let  him  he  treat- 
ed as  if  he  were  one  of  our  own  family.  I  am 
sure,  dear  papa,  such  would  he  your  wish,"  she 
added,  turning  to  hei^father. 

"  it  is  indeed,  my  child,"  said  the  Colonel. 
"  Wingenund,  again  I  heg  you  to  receive  a  fa- 
ther's best  thanks  for  your  brave  defence  of  his 
son." 

"  It  was  nothing,"  replied  the  boy,  modestly. 
"You  are  all  good,  too  good  to  'Wingenund; 
when  ho  gels  to  the  Far  Prairie,  he  will  tell  the 
Prairie-bird  and  the  Black  Father  to  speak  to 
the  Great  Spirit,  that  He  may  smile  on  my 
white  father,  and  on  my  brother;  and,"  he 
added,  slowly  raising  his  dark  eloquent  eyes  to 
Lucy's  face,  "  that  he  may  send  down  pleasant 
sunshine  and  refreshing  dew  on  the  Lily  of 
•Mooshanne."  So  saying,  he  turned  and  left 
the  room,  accompanied  by  the  Guide. 

"  Well,"  exclaimed  the  Colonel,  as  the  youth 
disappeared,  "  they  may  call  that  lad  a  savage ; 
but  his  feelings,  ay,  and  his  manners  too,  would 
put  to  shame  those  of  many  who  think  them- 
selves fine  gentlemen." 

"  He  is,  indeed,  a  noble  young  fellow,"  said 
Reginald,  "  and  worthy  to  be  the  relative  and 
pupil  of  my  Indian  brother.  I  would  that  you 
had  seen  him,  father :  you  are  in  general  rather 
sceptical  as  to  the  qualities  of  the  Redskins.  I 
think  the  War-Eagle  would  surprise  you  !" 

"Indeed,  Reginald,"  said  the  Colonel,  "I 
have  seen  among  them  so  much  cruelty,  cun- 
ning, and  drunkenness,  that  the  romantic  no- 
tions which  I  once  entertained  respecting  them 
are  completely  dissipated.  Nevertheless,  I  con- 
fess that  many  of  their  worst  faults  have  arisen 
from  their  commerce  with  the  whites ;  and  they 
still  retain  some  virtues  which  are  extremely 
rare  among  us  " 

"To  which  do  you  allude!"  inquired  Regi- 
nald. 

"  More  especially,  to  patience  under  suffering, 
a  padlocked  mouth  when  entrusted  with  a  secret, 
and  unshaken  fidelity  in  friendship." 

"These  are  indeed  high  and  valuable  quali- 
ties," replied.  Reginald.  "  Moreover,  it  strikes 
me  that  in  one  principal  feature  of  character 
the  Indian  is  superior  to  us ;  he  acts  up  to  his 
creed.  That  creed  may  be  entirely  based  on 
error;  it  may  teach  him  to  prefer  revenge  to 
mercy,  theft  to  industry,  violence  to  right ;  hut 
such  as  he  has  learnt  it  from  his  fathcrii,  he 
acts  up  to  it  more  firmly  and  consistently  than 
we  do, '  who  know  the  right,  and  still  the  wrong 
pursue.' " 

"  Your  observation  is  just,"  replied  his  fath- 
er; "they  are  benighted,  and  do  many  of  the 
deeds  of  darkness.  What  shall  we  say  of  those 
who  do  them  under  the  light  of  a  noon-day  sun  V 


"And  yet,"  said  Lucy,  "this  Wingenund 
seems  half  a  Christian,  and  more  than  half  a 
gentleman,  either  by  nature,  or  by  the  instruc- 
tions of  the  strange  being  he  calls  the  Prairie- 
bird  !" 

"  Upon  my  word,  Lucy,"  said  her  brolher, 
with  a  malicious  smile,  "  I  thought,  while  the 
lad  was  speaking  of  his  sister  on  the  Prairie, 
his  eyes  were  strangely  fixed  upon  the  while 
lady  in  the  wigwam.  It  is  fortunate  he  is  going 
soon ;  and  still  more  fortunate  that  a  certain 
cruizing  captain  is  not  returned  from  the  West 
Indies."  As  this  impertinent  speech  was  made 
in  a  whisper,  it  did  not  reach  Aunt  Mary  or  the 
Colonel ;  and  the  only  reply  it  drew  from  Lucy, 
was  a  blushing  threat  of  a  repetition  of  the  same 
punishment  which  she  had  inflicted  in  the  morn> 
ing  for  a  similar  ofTence.  He  begged  pardon, 
and  was  forgiven  ;  soon  after  M'hich  thb  little 
party  broke  up  and  retired  to  rest. 

Meantime  I3aptiste,  who  knew  that  the  well- 
intentioned  offer  of  a  bed-room  and  its  comforts 
would  be  a  great  annoyance  to  Wingenund,  took 
the  lad  out  with  him  to  a  dry  barn  behind  the 
house,  where  there  was  an  abundant  supply  of 
clean  straw,  and  where  he  intended  to  lodge 
him  for  the  night.  "  Wingenund,"  said  he, 
"  you  will  rest  here  for  some  hours ;  but  we 
must  go  along  before  daylight  to  meet  War- 
Eagle,  according  to  my  promise." 

"  I  will  be  ready,"  replied  the  youth ;  and 
casting  him:  elf  down  on  a  bundle  of  straw,  in 
five  minutes  his  wounds  and  fatigues  were  for- 
gotten in  a  refreshing  sleep,  over  which  hovered 
the  bright  dreams  of  youth,  wherein  the  sweet 
tones  of  his  sister's  voice  were  confused  with 
the  blue  eyes  of  Lucy  ;  and  yet  withal  a  sleep, 
such  as  guilt  can  never  know,  and  the  wealth 
of  the  Indies  qannot  purchase. 

Before  three  o'clock  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, the  Guide  reentered  the  barn  with  a  light 
step:  not  so  light,  however,  as  to  escape  the 
quick  ear  of  the  young  Indian,  who  leaped  from 
his  straw  couch,  and  throwing  his  rifle  over  his 
shoulder,  stood  before  the  hunter.  "  I  hope  you 
slept  well,"  said  the  latter,  "  and  that  your  ana 
gives  you  less  paint" 

"  I  slept  till  you  came,"  said  the  boy,  "  and 
the  pain  sleeps  still.     I  feel  nothing  of  it." 

"  Wingenund  will  be  like  his  father,"  said 
the  Guide.  "  He  will  lai:gii  at  pain,  and  fatigue, 
and  danger;  and  his  v/ar-path  will  be  sprinkled 
with  the  blood  of  his  enemies." 

The  youth  drew  himself  proudly  up,  and 
though  gratified  by  the  Guide's  observation, 
merely  replied,  "The  Great  Spirit  knows. — I 
am  ready ;  let  ns  go." 

Qaptiste  had  provided  a  couple  of  horses,  and 
they  started  at  a  brisk  pace,  as  he  wished  to 
reach  the  spot  where  he  had  appointed  to  meet 
War-Eagle  soon  after  day-light.  To  one  less 
familiar  with  the  woods,  the  tangled  and  wind- 
ing path,  through  which  \\e  led  the  way,  would 
have  offered  many  impediments ;  hut  Baptiste 
went  rapidly  forward  without  hesitation  or  dif- 
ficulty, Wingenund  tiillowing  in  silence ;  and 
after  a  brisk  ride  of  three  hours  they  came  to 
an  opening  in  the  forest,  where  a  log  hut  was 
visible,  and  beyond  it  the  broad  expanse  of 
Ohio's  stream. 

The  Guide  hare  whispered  to  Wingenund  to 
remain  concealed  in  the  thicket  with  the  horses, 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


'and 


while  he  reconnoitered  the  hut ;  because  he 
■knew  that  it  was  soii< 'times  used  as  a  shelter 
and  a  rendezvous,  by  ome  of  the  lawless  and 
desperate  characters  on  the  borders  of  the  set- 
tlements. 

Having  finished  his  examination,  and  ascer- 
tained that  the  hut  was  empty,  he  relumed  to 
Wingenund,  and  desired  him  to  come  down  to 
the  water's  edge,  where  he  was  to  make  a  sig- 
nal for  War-Eagle,  who  ought  to  be  now  at  no 
.great  distance.  The  youth  accordingly  went 
to  the  river's  bank,  and  understanding  from  the 
Guide  that  there  was  no  occasion  for  farther 
concealment,  he  gave  three  whistles  in  a  pecu- 
liar tone,  but  exceedingly  loud  and  shrill.  For 
some  time  they  listened  for  a  reply.  Nothing 
was  heard,  except  the  tap  of  the  woodpecker 
"upon  the  bark  of  the  elm,  and  the  notes  of  the 
various  feathered  choristers  chirping  their  ma- 
tin song. 

Ailer  a  pause  of  severat  minutes,  the  Guide 
said,  "  Surely  some  accident  has  detained  War- 
Eagle  !  Perhaps  he  has  failed  in  getting  the 
<;anoe.     Repeat  the  signal,  Wingenund." 

"  War-Eagle  is  here,"  replied  the  youth,  who 
was  quietly  leaning  on  his  rifle,  with  an  ab- 
stracted air. 

Again  the  Guide  listened  attentively ;  and  as 
he  was  unable  to  distinguish  the  slightest  sound 
indicative  of  the  chief's  approach,  he  was  rath- 
er vexed  at  the  superior  quickness  implied  in 
Wingenund's  reply,  and  said  somewhat  testily, 
"  A  moose  might  hear  something  of  him,  or  a 
bloodhound  might  find  the  wind  of  him,  but  I 
-can  make  out  nothing,  and  my  ears  an't  used  to 
be  stuffed  with  cotton,  neither !" 

"  Grande-HSche  is  a  great  warrior,  and  Win- 
-genund  would  be  proud  to  follow  in  his  war- 
path ;  eyes  and  ears  are  the  gill  of  the  Great 
Spirit."  • 

"  How  know  you  that  War- Eagle  is  here  1" 
inquired  the  Guide  impatiently. 

"  By  that,"  replied  the  boy,  pointing  to  a 
scarcely  perceptible  mark  on  the  bank  a  few 
yards  from  his  feet,  "  that  is  the  mocassin  of 
the  War-Eagle ;  he  has  been  to  the  hut  this 
morning ;  below  that  foot-print  you  will  see  on 
the  sand  the  mark  of  where  his  canoe  has 
touched  the  ground." 

"  The  boy  is  right,"  muttered  Baptiste,  ex- 
amining the  marks  carefully.  *'  I  believe  I  am 
no  hunter,  but  an  ass  after  all,  with  no  better 
«ars  and  eyes  than  Master  Perrot,  or  any  other 
parlour-boarder." 

In  a  very  few  minutes  the  sound  of  the  pad- 
dle was  heard,  and  War-Eagle  brought  his  ca- 
noe to  the  bank ;  a  brief  conversation  now 
took  place  between  him  and  Baptiste,  in  which 
«ome  particulars  were  arranged  for  Reginald's 
visit  to  the  Western  Prairie.  The  Guide  then 
taking  from  his  wallet  several  pounds  of  bread 
tii\d  beef,  and  a  large  parcel  of  tobacco,  added 
these  to  the  stores  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe, 
and  having  shaken  hands  heartily  with  the 
jhief  and  Wingenund,  returned  leisurely  on  his 
homeward  way  ;  but  he  still  muttered  to  him- 
self as  he  went ;  and  it  was  evident  that  he 
could  not  shake  off  the  annoyance  which  he 
felt  at  being  "  out- crafted,"  as  he  called  it,  "  by 
a  boy  !" 

We  will  not  follow  the  tedious  a-nd  toilsome 
voyage  of  War-Eagle  and  his  young  friend,  in 


!  the  canoe,  a  voyage  in  which  after  descending 
the  Ohio,  they  had  to  make  their  way  up  the 
Mississippi  to  its  junction  with  the  Missouri, 
and  thence  up  the  latter  river  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Osage  river,  which  they  also  ascended  be- 
tween two  and  three  hundred  miles  before  they 
rejoined  their  band.  It  is  sufticient  for  the 
purposes  of  our  tale  to  inform  the  reader  that 
they  reached  their  destination  in  safety,  and 
that  Wingenund  recovered  from  the  eflects  of 
his  severe  wound. 

When  Baptiste  returned  to  Mooshanne,  he 
found  the  family  surprised  and  annoyed  at  the 
sudden  disappearance  of  their  young  Indian 
guest ;  but  when  he  explained  to  Reginald  that 
he  had  gone  to  rejoin  his  chief  by  War-Eagle's 
desire,  Reginald  felt  that  the  best  coarse  had 
been  adopted,  as  the  boy  might,  if  he  had  re- 
mained, have  fallen  in  the  way  of  the  exasper- 
ated party  who  were  seeking  to  revenge  Her- 
vey's  death. 

It  was  about  noon  when  Mike  Smith,  and 
several  of  those  who  accompanied  him  the  pre- 
ceding day,  arrived  at  Mooshanne,  and  insisted 
upon  Baptiste  shewing  them  the  spot  where  he 
had  told  them  that  an  Indian  had  been  recently 
buried.  Reginald  declined  being  of  the  party, 
which  set  forth  under  the  conduct  of  th'*  Guide, 
to  explore  the  scene  of  the  occurrences  men- 
tioned in  a  former  chapter. 

During  their  absence,  Reginald  was  loung- 
ing in  his  sister's  boudoir,  talking  with  her  over 
the  events  of  the  preceding  days,  when  they 
heard  the  sound  of  a  vehicle  driven  up  to  the 
door,  and  the  blood  rushed  into  Lucy's  face  as 
the  thought  occurred  to  her  that  it  might  be 
Ethelston  ;  the  delusion  was  very  brief,  for  a 
moment  afterwards  the  broad  accent  of  David 
Muir  was  clearly  distinguishable,  as  he  said  to 
his  daughter,  "  Noo  Jessie,  baud  a  grip  o'  Smi- 
ler,  while  I  gie  a  pull  at  the  door-bell." 

Much  to  the  surprise  of  the  worthy  "  Mer- 
chaunt,"  (by  which  appellation  David  delight- 
ed to  be  designated,)  the  door  was  opened  by 
no  less  a  personage  than  Monsieur  Gustave 
Perrot  himself,  who  seeing  the  pretty  Jessie  in 
her  father's  spring-cart,  hastened  with  charac- 
teristic gallantry,  to  assist  her  to  descend  ;  in 
the  performance  of  which  operation  he  extend- 
ed both  his  hands  to  support  her  waist,  saying 
in  his  most  tender  tone,  "  Take  care,  Miss  Jes- 
sie ;  now  shump,  and  trust  all  your  leetle 
weight  with  me." 

But  while  he  was  speaking,  the  active  girl 
putting  one  foot  on  the  step  and  touching  him 
lightly  on  the  ann,  stood  on  the  ground  teside 
him. 

"  Weel,  Mr.  Parrot,  and  how's  a  wi  ye  the 
day,"  said  David,  who  was  busily  employed  in 
extracting  various  packages  and  parcels  from 
the  cart. 

"  All  ver'  well,  thank  you,  Mr.  Muir ;  wonder- 
ful things  happen,  though.  My  young  Mr.  Re- 
ginald he  be  drowned  and  stabbed,  and  quite 
well !" 

"  Gude  save  us  I"  said  David,  in  horror ; 
"  drowned,  and  stabbed,  and  quite  well !"  Ye're 
surely  no  in  earnest,  Mr.  Parrot !" 

"  I  speak  only  the  truth  always, — Miss  Jessie, 
the  fresh  air  and  the  ride  make  your  cheek  beau- 
tiful rosy." 
I     "  Mr.  Perrot,"  replied  Jessie,  smiling,  "  that 


it 


40 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


Iff 


ia  a  poor  compliment !  You  are  so  gallant  a 
gentleman,  you  should  praise  the  roses  in  a 
lady's  cheek  without  mentioning  that  she  owes 
them  to  a  rough  road  and  a  fresh  breeze  !" 

This  dialogue  on  roses  was  here  interrupted 
by  David,  who  said,  "  May  be,  Mr.  Parrot,  ye'll 
just  let  Smiler  be  ta'en  round  to  the  stable,  and 
desire  ane  o'  the  lads  to  help  us  in  with  these 
twa  parcels  ;  yon  muckle  basket,  there,  is  brim- 
full  of  all  the  newest  kick-shaws,  and  modes, 
as  them  call  'em,  frae  Philadelphy,  so  Jessie's 
)ust  come  wi'  me,  to  gie  Miss  Lucy  the  first 
choice ; — and  she's  a  right  to  hae  it  too,  for 
she's  the  bonniest  and  the  best  young  lady  in 
the  Territory." 

Mr.  Perrot  having  given  these  necessary  or- 
ders, David,  with  his  papers,  was  soon  closeted 
with  the  colonel,  in  his  business  room  ;  and  Jes- 
sie was  ushered  into  the  young  lady's  boudoir, 
where  her  brother  still  sat,  with  the  intention 
of  giving  his  sister  the  benefit  of  his  advice  in 
the  selection  of,  what  David  c,->lled,  kickshaws 
and  modes,  for  her  toilet.  Meanwhile  Perrot 
was  preparing  a  formidable  attack  upon  Jessie's 
heart,  through  the  medium  of  some  venison 
steaks,  a  delicate  ragout  of  squirrel,  and  sundry 
other  tit-bits,  with  which  he  hoped  to  propitiate 
the  village  beauty.  As  Jessie  entered  the  room, 
her  salutation  of  I^ucy  was  modestly  respectful ; 
and  she  returned  Reginald's  bow  with  an  unem- 
barrassed and  not  ungraceful  courtesy.  While 
she  was  dra'.ving  out,  and  placing  on  a  table, 
the  silken  contents  of  her  basket,  Reginald  in- 
quired of  her  whether  any  news  was  stirring  in 
Marietta. 

"  Nunc,"  she  replied,  "  except  the  killing  of 
Hervey .  Al!  the  town  is  speaking  of  it,  and  they 
say  it  will  cause  more  bloodshed ;  for  Mike 
Smith  vows,  if  he  cannot  find  the  real  offender, 
he'll  shoot  down  the  first  Indian  he  finds  in  the 
woods." 

"  Mike  Smith  is  a  hot-headed  fool,"  replied 
Reginald  ;  but  remembering  sundry  reports 
which  had  rea(;hed  his  ear,  he  added,  "  I  beg 
your  pardon,  Miss  Jessie,  if  the  words  give  you 
offence." 

"  Indeed  you  have  given  none,  Master  Regi- 
nald," said  Jessie,  colouring  a  little  at  the  im- 
plied meaning  of  his  words  ;  "  Mike  comes  very 
oflen  to  our  store,  but  I  believe  it  is  mure  for 
whiskey  than  anything  else." 

"  Nay,"  said  Reginald ;  "  I  doubt  you  do  him 
injustice.  The  say  he  prefers  i!ie  end  of  the 
store  which  is  the  furthest  from  the  bar." 

"  Perhaps  he  may,"  replied  Jessie ;  "  I  am 
always  better  pleased  when  he  stays  away,  for 
he  is  very  ill-tempered  and  quarrelsome !  \Vp1!, 
miss,"  she  continued,  "are  noi  these  pink  rib- 
bons oeautiful,  and  these  two  light  shawls  ? — 
they  come  from  the  British  East  India  House." 

"  They  are  indeed  the  prettiest  and  most  de- 
licate that  I  ever  saw,"  replied  Lucy  ;  "  and  see 
here,  Reginald,"  said  she,  drawing  him  aside, 
"  these  French  bead  necklaces  will  do  famously 
for  some  of  yo-.r  Delaware  friends."'  She  added 
in  a  whisper,  "  ask  her  if  there  is  no  other  news 
at  the  town." 

"  What  about,"  inquired  her  brother.    A  silent 
look  of  reproach  was  her  only  reply,  as  she  turn- 
ed away,  and  again  busied  herself  with  the  silks. 
He  was  instantly  conscious  and  ashamed  of  his 
.  thoughtlessness,  which,  after  a  few  moments' 


silence,  he  proceeded  to  repair,  saying,  "  Pray 
tell  me.  Miss  Jessie,  has  your  father  received  no 
intelligence  of  the  '  Pride  of  the  Ohio.' " 

"  Alas !  not  a  word,"  replied  the  girl,  in  a  tone 
of  voice  so  melancholy,  that  it  startled  them 
both. 

"  But  why  speak  you  in  so  sad  a  voice  about 
the  vessel,  Jessie,  if  you  have  heard  no  bad  news 
regarding  her?"  said  Reginald,  quickly. 

"  Because,  sir,  she  has  been  very  long  over- 
due, and  there  are  many  reports  of  French  ships 
of  war ;  and  we,  that  is,  my  father,  is  much  in- 
terested about  her." 

Poor  Lucy's  colour  came  and  went ;  but  she 
had  not  the  courage  to  say  a  word.  After  a 
short  pause,  Reginald  inquired,  "  Have  any  boats 
come  up  lately  from  New  Orleans  1" 

"Yes,  sir,  Henderson's  came  up  only  a  few 
days  ago,  and  Henry  Gregson,  who  had  been 
down  on  some  business  for  my  father,  returned 
in  her." 

"That  is  the  young  man  who  assists  your 
father  in  the  store  1  I  believe  he  is  a  son  of  the 
mate  on  board  the  Pride.  I  have  remarked  that 
he  is  a  very  fine  looking  young  fellow !" 

"  He  is  the  son  of  Captain  Ethelston's  mate," 
said  Jessie,  casting  down  her  eyes,  and  busying 
herself  with  .some  of  her  ribbons  and  silks. 
"  But  I  hope,"  she  continued,  "  that  you,  Mr. 
Reginald,  are  not  seriously  hurt.  Mr.  Perrot 
told  me  you  had  been  drowned  and  stabbed  !" 

"  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that,"  said  Reginald, 
laughing ;  "  I  had,  indeed,  a  swim  in  the  Mus- 
kingum, and  a  blow  f.om  a  horse's  hoof,  but  am 
none  the  worse  for  either.  Do  not  forget.  Miss 
Jessie,  to  send  off  a  messenger  immediately  tliat 
any  news  arrive  jif  the  Pride.  You  know  what 
a  favourite  she  is,  and  how  anxious  we  are  here 
about  her!" 
"  Indeed  I  will  not  forget,"  replied  Jessie. 
Lucy  sighed  audibly  ;  and,  after  purchasing  a 
few  ribbons  and  shawls,  as  well  as  a  stuck  of 
beads  for  her  brother,  she  allowed  Jessie  to  re- 
tire, begging,  at  the  same  time,  her  acceptance 
of  one  of  the  prettiest  shawls  in  her  basket.  As 
the  latter  hesitated  about  receiving  it,  Lucy 
threw  it  over  the  girl's  shoulder,  saying  playful- 
ly, "  Nay,  Jessie,  no  refusal ;  I  am  mistress  here ; 
and  noboijy,  not  even  Mr.  Reginald,  disputes  my 
will  in  this  room !" 

Jessie  thanked  the  young  lady,  and,  saluting 
her  brother,  withdrew  to  a  back  parlour,  where 
Monsieur  Perrot  had  already  prepared  his  good 
things,  and  where  her  father  only  wailed  her 
coming  to  commence  a  dinner  which  his  drive 
had  made  desirable,  and  "'hich  hio  uiiaciory 
nerves  lold  him  was  more  savory  than  the  vi- 
ands set  before  him  at  Marietta  by  Mrs.  Christie. 
"Call  ye  this  a  squirrel  ragool"  said  the 
worthy  Merchaunt ;  "  weel  now  it's  an  awfu' 
thing  to  think  how  the  Lord's  gifts  are  abused 
in  the  auld  country !  I  hae  seen  dizens  o'  they 
wee  deevils  lilting  and  louping  amaing  the  woods 
in  the  Lothians ;  and  yet  the  hungry  chaps  wha* 
can  scarce  earn  a  basin  o'  porritch.  or  a  pot  o' 
kail  to  their  dinner,  would  as  soon  think  o'  eatin' 
a  stoat  or  a  foumart !" 

While  making  this  ohservaticm,  Davie  was 
dispatching  the  "  ragoo"  witli  a  satisfaction 
which  showed  how  completely  he  had  overcome 
his  insular  prejudices.  Nor  were  Perrot's  culi- 
nary attentions  altogether  lust  upon  Miss  Jessie  ; 


1 
is 

J 


THE  PRAIRIE  BIRD. 


41 


I 


for  although  she  might  not  repby  them  entirely 
according  to  the  wishes  of  the  gallant  Maitre 
d'Hotel,  she  could  not  help  acknowledging  thr.t 
he  was  a  pleasant,  good-humoured  fellow,  and 
that  his  abilities  as  a  cook  were  of  the  highest 
order.  Accordingly,  when  he  offered  her  a 
foaming  glass  of  eider,  she  drank  it  to  his  health, 
wit'i  a  glance  of  her  merry  eye  sufficient  to  have 
turned  the  head  of  a  man  less  vain  and  amorous 
than  Monsieur  Perrot. 

The  dinner  passed  pleasantly  enough ;  and  as 
David  Muir  drove  his  daughter  back  to  Marietta, 
his  heart  being  warmed  and  expanded  by  the 
generous  cid'r  (which,  for  the  good  of  his  health, 
he  had  crowned  with  a  glass  of  old  rum),  he  said, 
"Jessie,  I'm  thinkin'  that  Maistsr  Perrot  is  a 
douce  and  clever  man ;  a  lassie  might  do  waur 
than  tak'  up  wi  the  like  o'  him !  I'se  warrant 
his  nest  will  no  be  ill  feathered !" 

"Perhaps  not,"  replied  Jessie;  and  turning 
her  head  away,  she  sighed,  and  thought  of  Henry 
Gregson. 


CHAPTER  Xlir. 

In  which  the  reader  will  And  that  the  cough  nf  an  invalid 
h.19  peril!)  not  less  formidable  than  those  which  are  to 
be  encountered  at  raa. 

We  lefl  Ethelston  stretched  on  a  sick  couch 
in  Guadaloupe,  in  the  house  of  Captain  L'Es- 
trange,  and  tended  by  his  daughter  Nina,  and 
by  her  brother,  the  young  lieutenant.  The  lat- 
ter grew  daily  more  attached  to  the  patient,  who 
had  been  his  captor,  and  was  now  his  prisoner; 
but  he  was  obliged,  as  soon  as  Ethelston  was  pro- 
nounced out  of  danger,  to  sail  for  Europe,  as  he 
was  anxious  to  obtain  that  professional  distinc- 
tion which  his  parole  prevented  his  gaining  in 
service  against  the  United  States.  And  in 
France  there  seemed  a  promising  harvest  of 
combat  and  of  glory,  sufficicat  to  satisfy  the 
martial  enthusiasm  even  of  the  most  adventu- 
rous of  her  sons.  When  he  sailed,  he  again 
and  again  pressed  upon  his  sister  to  bestow 
every  attention  upon  Ethelston;  and  as  tlie 
Captain  was  much  busied  with  his  command, 
and  as  Madame  L'Estrange  was  entirely  devo- 
ted to  her  boudoir, — where,  with  two  chattering 
parrots  to  amuse  her,  and  a  little  black  girl  to 
fan  her  while  listlessly  poring  over  the  pages  of 
Fiorian  in  a  fauteuil,— the  whole  charge  devolv- 
ed upon  the  willing  and  kind-hearted  Nina.  She 
was  the  third  and  youngest  daughter  of  Mon- 
sieur and  Madame  L'Estranee:  but  (her  two 
elder  sisters  bemg  married)  she  was  the  only 
one  resident  with  her  parents. 

Sixteen  summers  had  now  passed  over  her, 
and  her  disposition  was  like  that  of  her  brother, 
—frank,  inipetuo"s,  and  warm-hearted.  Her 
feelings  had  never  been  guided  or  regulated  by 
her  handsome,  but  indolent  mother ;  her  mind 
had  been  allowed  to  seek  its  food  at  hap-hazard, 
among  <! "« romances,  poems,  am',  plays  upon  the 
shelves  i  '■  he  drawing-room.  Her  father  spoil- 
ed, and  her  brother  petted  her.  A  governess 
also  she  had,  whom  she  governed,  and  to  whose 
instructions  she  owed  little,  except  a  moderate 
proficiency  in  music.  Her  countenance  was  a 
very  beautiful  mirror,  reflecting  the  warm  and 
impassioned  features  of  her  character.  Her 
complexion  was  dark,  though  clear,  and  her  hair 


black  and  glossy.  The  pencilling  of  her  eye- 
brows was  exceedingly  delicate ;  and  the  eyes 
themselves  were  large,  speaking,  and  glowing 
with  that  humid  lustre,  which  distinguishes 
Creole  beauty.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  rosy 
fulness  of  her  lip,  and  the  even  whiteness  of 
the  teeth  which  her  joyous  smile  disclosed. 
Her  figure  was  exquisitely  proportioned ;  and 
her  every  movement  a  very  model  bf  natural 
grace.  She  seemed,  indeed,  impregnated  with 
the  fervour  of  the  sunny  climate  in  which  she 
had  been  reared ;  and  her  temper,  her  imagina- 
tion, her  passions,  all  glowed  with  its  ardent, 
but  dangerous  warmth.  According  to  the  usage 
of  her  country,  she  had  been  betrothed,  when  a 
child,  to  a  neighboui  ing  planter,  one  of  the  rich- 
est in  the  island ;  but  as  he  was  absent  in  Eu- 
rope, and  there  remained  yet  two  years  before 
the  time  fixed  for  the  fulfilment  of  the  contract,, 
she  rarely  troubled  her  head  about  the  marriage, 
or  her  future  destiny. 

Such  was  the  girl  who  now  officiated  as  nurse 
to  Ethelston,  and  who,  before  she  had  seen  him, 
had  gathered  from  her  brother  such  traits  of  his 
character,  as  had  cal'sd  forth  all  the  interest 
and  sympathy  of  her  romantic  disposition.  Al- 
though not  eminently  handsome,  we  have  be- 
fore noted  that  his  countenance  was  manly  and 
expressive,  and  his  manners  courteous  and  en- 
gaging. Perhaps  also  the  weakness  remaining 
afler  the  crisis  of  his  fever,  imparted,  to  the 
usually  gentle  expression  of  his  features,  that 
touching  attraction,  which  is  called  by  a  modera 
poet  "  a  loving  languor."  At  all  events,  certain 
it  is,  that  ere  poor  Nina  had  administered  the 
third  eaiine  draught  to  her  grateful  patient,  her 
little  heart  bes^t  vehemently ;  and  when  she  had 
attended  his  feverish  couch  one  short  week,  she 
was  desperately  in  love  ! 

How  fared  it  in  the  meantime  with  Ethelston  ? 
Did  his  heart  run  any  risk  from  the  dark  eloquent 
eyes,  and  the  gracefully  rounded  form  of  the 
ministering  angel  who  hovered  about  his  sick^ 
room  ?  At  present  none,  for  Lucy  was  shrined 
there ;  and  he  had  been  taught  by  young  L'Es- 
trange to  consider  his  sister  in  the  light  of  a 
nursery-girl,  still  under  the  dominion  of  the* 
governess. 

Days  and  weeks  elapsed,  Ethelston's  recovery 
progressed,  and  he  was  able  to  stroll  in  the  shade 
of  the  orange  and  •  ron-groves,  which  Sheltered 
Captain  L'Estrangu's  villa  to  the  northward. 
Here,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  sea,  would  he 
sometimes  sit  for  hours,  and  devise  schemes  for 
returning  to  his  home.  On  these  occasions  he- 
was  trequenii>  accompanied  by  Nina,  who  walk- 
ed by  his  side  with  her  guitar  in  her  hand  ;  and 
under  the  pretence  of  receiving  instructions 
from  him  in  music,  she  would  listen  with  delight, 
and  hang  with  rapture,  on  every  syllable  that 
he  uttered.  Though  he  could  not  avoid  being, 
sensible  of  her  ripening  beauty,  his  heart  was 
protected  by  the  seven-fold  shield  of  a  deep  and 
abiding  attachment ;  and  as  he  still  looked  upon 
Nina  as  a  lovely  girl,  completing  her  education, 
in  the  nursery,  he  gladly  gave  her  all  the  assis- 
tance that  she  asked  under  her  musical  difficul- 
ties; and  this  he  was  able  to  do,  from  having 
made  no  small  proficiency  in  the  science  during 
his  long  residence  in  Germany. 

Sometimes  he  paid  his  respects  to  Madame 
L'Estrange ;  but  that  lady  was  so  indolent,  and 


4 
i; 

''2i 


42 


THE  PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


m\ 


i 


•80  exclusively  devoted  to  her  parrots  and  her 
lap-il()g,  that  hia  visits  to  her  were  neither  fre- 
<|iieHt,  nor  of  long  duration.  The  Captain  was 
very  seldom  ashore;  and  thus  EJhflston  was 
«!>lit!e  I  to  spend  his  time  alone,  or  in  the  society 
of  the  y  lunjt  girl  who  had  nursed  h;m  so  kindly 
during  his  illness.  Her  character  seemed  to 
liave  undergone  a  sudden  and  complete  change. 
The  conquering  god,  who  had  at  first  only  taken 
possession  of  the  outworks  of  her  fancy,  had 
now  made  himself  master  of  the  citadel  of  her 
leart.  She  loved  with  all  the  intense,  absorb- 
ing passion  of  a  nature  that  had  never  known 
control.  The  gaiety  and  buoyancy  of  her  spirits 
had  given  place  to  a  still,  deep  flood  of  feeling, 
which  her  reason  never  attempted  to  restrain. 
Even  when  with  him  she  spoke  little.  Her  hap- 
piness was  too  intense  to  find  a  vent  in  words  ; 
and  thus  she  nursed  and  fed  a  flame,  that  need- 
ed only  the  breath  of  accident  to  make  it  burst 
forth  wiih  a  viidence  that  should  burn  up,  or 
•overleap  all  the  harriers  of  self-control. 

Nor  must  the  reader  imagine  that  Ethelston 
was  dull  or  blind,  because  he  observed  not  the 
state  of  Nina's  afTections.  His  own  were  firmly 
rooted  elsewhere  ;  he  was  neither  of  a  vain,  nor 
a  romantic  disposition  ;  and  he  had  been  duly 
informed  by  Monsieur  L'Ectrange,  that  in  the 
course  of  two  years  Nina  was  to  be  married  to 
Monsieur  Derlrand,  the  young  planter,  to  whom, 
as  we  have  before  mentioned,  she  had  been  be- 
trothed by  her  parents  since  her  thirteenth  year. 
He  could  not  help  seeing  that  although  her  in- 
tellect was  quick,  and  her  character  enthusias- 
tic, her  education  had  been  shamefully  neglect- 
ed both  by  Madame  L'Estrange  and  the  gov- 
•erness.  Hence  he  spoke,  counselled,  and  some- 
times chid  her,  in  the  tone  of  an  elder  brother, 
heedless  of  the  almost  imperceptible  line  that 
separates  friendship  from  love  in  the  bosom  of 
a  girl  nurtured  under  a  West  Indian  sun. 

In  this  state  were  matters,  when,  on  a  fine 
«vening,  Ethelston  strolled  alone  into  his  favour- 
ite orange-grove,  to  look  out  upon  the  ocean, 
and  in  the  enjoyment  of  its  refreshing  breeze, 
-to  ruminate  on  his  strange  captivity,  and  revolve 
various  plans  of  escape. 

Captain  L'Estrange  had  paid  a  visit  to  his 
home  on  the  preceding  day,  and  finding  his 
prisoner  so  completely  restored  to  health  and 
'Strength,  had  said  to  him.  jokingly,  "  Indeed, 
fair  sir,  I  think  I  must  put  you  on  your  parole, 
or  in  chains ;  for  after  the  character  given  of 
you  by  my  son,  I  cannot  allow  so  dangerous  a 
•person  to  be  at  large  during  the  continuance  of 
hostilities  between  our  respective  nations." 

Ethelston  answered  half  in  earnest,  and  half 
in  jest,  "  Nay,  sir,  then  I  must  wear  the  chains, 
for  assuredly  I  cannot  give  my  parole ;  if  an 
American  vessel  were  to  come  in  sight,  or  any 
other  means  of  flight  to  offer  itself,  depend  upon 
■it,  in  spite  of  the  kindness  and  hospitality  I  have 
met  with  here,  I  should  weigh  anchor  in  a  mo- 
ment." 

"  Well,  that  is  a  fair  warning."  said  the  old 
Commodore  ;  "  nevertheless  I  will  not  lock  you 
up  just  yet,  for  I  do  not  think  it  very  likely  that 
any  strange  sail  will  come  under  the  guns  of 
our  fort ;  and  I  will  run  the  risk  of  your  flying 
away  in  the  back  of  a  sea-gull."  Thus  had 
they  parted ;  and  the  old  gentleman  was  again 
absent  on  a  cruise. 


Ethelston  was,  as  we  have  said,  reclining 
listlessly  under  an  orange-trco,  inhaling  the  cool 
breeze,  laden  V/ith  the  fragrance  of  its  blossoms, 
now  devisint;  impossil)le  plans  of  escape,  and 
now  musinji  on  a  vision  of  Lucy's  graceful  figure 
gliding  among  the  deep  woods  around  Mous- 
hanne.  As  those  thoughts  passed  through  his 
mind,  they  imparted  a  melancholy  shade  to  his 
brow,  and  a  deep  sigh  escaped  from  his  lips. 

It  was  echoed  by  one  yet  deeper,  close  to  hi.s 
ear ;  and  starting  from  his  reverie,  he  beheld 
Nina,  who  had  approached  him  unawares,  and 
who,  leaning  on  her  guitar,  had  been  for  the 
last  few  minutes  gazing  on  hif  countenance 
with  an  absorbed  intensity,  more  fond  and 
riveted  than  that  with  which  the  miser  regards 
his  treasure,  or  the  widowed  mother  her  only 
child. 

When  she  found  herself  perceived,  she  came 
forward,  and  covering  her  emotion  under  an 
assumed  gaiety,  she  said,  "What  is  my  kind 
instructor  thinking  of!  He  seems  more  grave 
and  s.id  than  usual." 

"He  is  thinking,'  said  Ethelston,  good-hu- 
mouredly,  "  that  he  ought  to  scold  a  certain 
young  lady  ve:y  severely  for  coming  upon  him 
slily,  and  discovering  that  gravity  and  sadness 
in  which  a  captive  must  sometimes  indulge, 
but  which  her  presence  has  already  dissipated." 

"  Nay,"  said  Nina,  still  holding  her  guitar, 
and  siting  down  on  the  bank  near  him  ;  '-you 
know  that  I  am  only  obeying  papa's  orders  in 
watching  you  ;  for  he  says  you  would  not  give 
your  parole,  and  I  am  sure  you  were  thinking 
of  your  escape  from  G^adaloupe." 

"  Perhaps  you  might  have  guessed  more 
wide  of  the  mark,  Mademoiselle  Nina,"  said 
Ethelston. 

"  And  are  you  then  so  very  anxious  to — to — 
see  your  home  again  V  inquired  Nina,  hesitating. 

"  Judge  for  ycu  self,  Nina,"  he  replied,  "  when 
I  remind  you  that  for  many  months  I  have  heard 
nothing  of  those  who  have  been  my  nearest  and 
dearest  friends  from  childhood  ;  nothing  of  the 
brave  men  who  were  captured  with  me  when 
our  poor  brig  was  lost !" 

"  Tell  me  about  your  friends,  and  your  home. 
Is  if  very  beautiful  ?  Have  you  the  warm  sun, 
and  the  fresh  sea-breeze,  and  the  orange-flow- 
ers, that  we  have  herel" 

"  Scarcely,"  replied  Ethelston,  smiling  at  the 
earnest  rapidity  with  which  the  beautiful  girl 
founded  her  inquiries  on  the  scene  before  her, 
"but  we  have  in  their  place  rivers  on  the  bosom 
of  which  your  father's  frigate  might  sail ;  groves 
and  woods  of  deep  shade,  impenetrable  to  the 
rays  of  .he  hottest  sun:  and  prairies  smiling 
with  the  most  brilliant  and  variegated  flowers." 

"Oh  !  how  I  should  love  to  see  that  land !" 
exclaimed  Nina,  her  fervid  imagination  instantly 
grasping  and  heightening  its  beauties.  "  How 
I  should  love  to  dwell  there  !" 

"  Nay,  it  appears  to  me  not  unlikely  that  you 
may  at  some  time  visit  it,"  replied  Ethelston. 
"  TTiis  foolish  war  between  our  countries  will 
soon  be  over,  and  your  father  may  wish  to  see 
a  region  the  scenery  of  which  is  so  magnificent, 
and  which  is  not  diflicult  of  access  from  here." 

"  Papa  will  never  leave  these  islands,  unless 
he  poes  to  France,  and  that  he  hates,"  said 
Nina." 

"Well  then,"  continued  Ethelston,  smiling, 


I 

A* 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


43 


aid,  reclining 
laiing  the  coul 
r  its  biussoms, 
t'  esuiipe,  and 
graceful  liguie 
around  Moos- 
d  llirougli  his 
'  shade  to  his 
ini  his  li|>s. 
r,  ciuae  to  his 
rie,  he  beheld 
mawares,  and 
been  for  the 
^  countenance 
Dre  fond  and 
miser  regards 
ther  her  only 

ired,  she  came 
ion  under  an 
it  is  my  kind 
IS  more  grave 

iton,  good-hu- 
!old  a  certain 
ing  upon  him 
^  and  sadness 
imes  indulge, 
ly  dissipated." 
ig  her  guitar, 
ir  him  ;  '•  you 
pa'a  orders  in 
/ould  not  give 
were  thinking 

guessed  more 
e  Nina,"  said 

icious  to — to— 
ina,  hesitating, 
epiied,  "  when 
s  I  have  heard 
sy  nearest  and 
lothing  of  the 
vith  me  when 

:)d  your  home, 
he  warm  sun, 
J  orange-flow- 
smiling  at  the 
beautiful  girl 
e  before  her, 
on  the  bosom 
t  sail ;  groves 
etrable  to  the 
airies  smiling 
ated  flowers." 
that  land !" 
ation  instantly 
Uies.     "  How 

ikely  that  you 
ed  Ethelston. 
countries  will 
f  wish  to  see 
I)  magnificent, 
s  from  here." 
slands,  unless 
hates,"  said 

iton,  smiling, 


tis  'hb  alluded  for  the  first  time  to  her  marriage, 
"  you  must  defer  your  American  trip  a  year  or 
two  longer ;  then,  doubtless.  Monsieur  Bertrand 
will  gladly  gratify  your  desire  to  see  the  Mis- 
sissippi." 

Nina  started  as  if  stung  by  an  adder;  the 
blond  rushed  and  mantled  over  her  face  and 
neck  ;  her  eyes  glowed  with  indignation,  as  she 
exclaimed,  "  I  abhor  and  detest  Monsieur  Ber- 
trand. I  wouid  die  before  I  would  marry  him  I" 
Then  adding  in  a  low  voice,  the  sadness  of 
which  went  to  his  heart,  "and  this  from  you 
too  !"  She  covered  her  facs  with  lie'  hands  and 
wept. 

Never  was  man  more  astonished  than  Ethel- 
ston at  the  sudden  storm  which  h<3  had  inad- 
vertently raised.  Remembering  that  Madame 
L'Estrange  had  told  him  of  the  engagement  as 
being  known  to  Nina,  he  had  been  led  to  sup- 
pose from  her  usual  flow  of  spirits,  that  the 
prospect  was  far  from  being  disagreeable  to  her. 
Young  L'Estrange  had  alsu  told  him  that  Ber- 
trand was  a  good-looking  man,  of  high  charac- 
ter, and  considered,  from  his  wealth,  the  best 
match  in  the  French  islands ;  so  that  Ethelston 
was  altogether  unprepared  for  the  violent  aver- 
sion which  Nina  now  avowed  for  the  marriage, 
and  for  the  grief  by  which  she  seemed  so  deeply 
agitated.  Siill  he  was  as  far  as  ever  from  di- 
vining the  true  cause  of  her  emotion,  and  con- 
jectured that  she  had  probably  formed  an  at- 
tachment to  one  of  the  young  oflicers  on  board 
her  father's  ship.  Under  this  impression  he 
took  her  hand,  and  sympathising  with  the  grief 
of  one  so  fair  and  so  young,  he  said  to  her, 
kindl"  "  Forgive  me,  Nina,  if  I  have  said  any- 
thing to  hurt  your  feelings ;  indeed  I  always 
have  believed  that  your  engagement  to  Mon- 
sieur Bertrand  was  an  affair  settled  by  your 
parents  entirely  with  your  consent.  I  am  sure 
Monsieur  L'Estrange  love  his  favourite  child 
too  well  to  compel  her  to  a  marriage  against 
her  inclination.  Will  you  permit  your  Ment«r 
(as  you  have  more  than  once  allowed  me  to 
call  myself)  to  speak  with  him  on  the  subject  1" 

Nina  made  no  reply,  and  the  tears  coursed 
each  other  yet  faster  down  her  cheek. 

"Your  brother  15  absent,"  continued  Ethel- 
ston ;  "  you  seem  not  to  confide  your  little 
secrets  to  your  mother — will  you  not  let  me  aid 
you  by  my  advice  1  I  am  many  years  older  than 
you. — I  am  deeply  grateful  for  all  your  kindness 
curing  my  tedious  illness ;  believe  me,  I  will,  if 
you  will  only  trust  me,  advi-e  you  with  the 
aiTectionate  interest  of  a  parent,  or  an  elder 
brother." 

The  little  hand  trembled  violently  in  his,  but 
still  no  reply  escaped  from  Nina's  lips. 

"If  you  will  not  tell  me  your  secret,"  pursued 
Ethelston,  "  I  must  guess  it.  Your  aversion  to 
the  engagement  arises  not  so  much  from  your 
dislike  to  Monsieur  Bertrand,  as  from  your  pre- 
ference of  some  other  whom  perhaps  your  pa- 
rents would  not  approve  1" 

The  hand  was  withdrawn,  being  employed  in 
an  ineflectual  attempt  to  check  her  tears.  The 
slight  fillet  which  bound  her  bk  k  tresses  had 
given  way,  and  they  now  fell  in  duorder,  veiling 
the  deep  crimson  glow  which  again  mantled 
over  the  neck  of  the  weeping  girl. 

Ethelston  gazed  on  her  with  emotions  of  deep 
sympathy.    There  was  a  .'bality,  a  dignity  about 


her  speechless  grief  that  must  have  moved  a 
sterner  heart  than  his ;  and  as  he  looked  upon 
the  heaving  of  her  bosom,  and  upon  the  exqui- 
site proportions  unconsciously  developed  in  her 
attitude,  he  suddenly  felt  that  he  was  speaking, 
not  to  a  child  in  the  nursery,  but  to  a  girl  in 
whose  form  and  heart  the  bi<d  and  blossom  of 
womanhood  were  thus  early  ripened.  It  was, 
therefore.  In  a  tone,  not  less  kind,  but  more  re- 
spectful  than  he  had  hitherto  used,  that  he  said, 
"  Nay,  Nina,  I  desire  not  to  pry  into  your  se- 
crets— I  only  wish  to  assure  you  of  the  deep 
sympathy  which  I  feel  with  your  sorrow,  and  of 
nriy  desire  to  aid  or  comfort  you  '.ly  any  means 
within  my  power ;  but  if  my  curiosity  offends 
you,  I  will  retire  in  the  hope  that  your  own  gen- 
tle thoughts  may  soon  afford  you  relief." 

Again  the  little  hand  was  laid  upon  his  arm, 
as  Nina,  still  weeping,  whispered,  "No,  no, — 
you  do  not  offend  me. — Do  not  leave  me,  I  en- 
treat you  !" 

A  painful  silence  ensued,  and  Ethelston  more 
than  ever  confirmed  in  the  belief  that  she  had 
bestowed  her  affections  on  some  young  middy, 
or  lieutenant,  under  her  father's  command,  con- 
tinued in  a  tone  which  he  attempted  to  render 
gay:  "  Well  then,  Nina,  since  you  will  not  give 
your  confidence  to  Mentor,  he  must  appoint 
himself  your  confessor ;  and  to  commence,  he 
is  right  in  believing  that  your  dislike  to  Mon- 
sieur Bertrand  arises  from  your  having  given 
your  heart  elsewhere  1" 

There  was  no  reply ;  but  her  head  was  bowed 
in  token  of  acquiescence ! 

"  I  need  not  inquire,"  he  pursued,  "  whether 
the  object  of  your  choice  is,  in  rank  and  charac- 
ter, worthy  of  your  affection  1" 

In  an  instant  the  drooping  head  was  raised, 
and  the  dark  tresses  thrown  back  from  her 
bro'.v,  as,  with  her  eyes  flashing  through  the 
moisture  by  which  they  were  still  bedewed, 
Nina  replied,  "  Worthy ! — worthy  the  affection 
of  a  queen  !" 

Ethelston,  startled  by  her  energy,  was  about 
to  resume  his  inquiries,  when  Nina,  whose  ex- 
cited spirit  triumphed  for  the  moment  over  all 
restraint,  stopped  him,  saying,  "  I  will  spare  you 
the  trouble  of  farther  questions.  I  will  tell  you 
freely,  that  till  lately,  very  lately,  I  cared  for 
none. — Monsieur  Bertrand  and  all  others  were 
alike  to  me ;  but  fate  threw  a  stranger  in  my 
path. — He  was  a  friend  of  my  brother ; — he  was 
wounded. — For  hours  and  hours  I  watched  by 
his  couch  ; — he  revived ; — ^his  looks  were  gen- 
tle ;  his  voice  was  music. — I  drew  counsel  from 
his  lips ; — he  filled  my  thoughts,  my  dreams, 
my  heart,  my  being !  But  he — he  considered 
me  only  as  a  silly  child ; — he  understood  not 
my  heart ; — he  mocked  my  agony ; — he  saved 
my  brother's  life, — and  is  now  accomplishing 
the  sister's  death !" 

The  excitement  which  supported  Nina  during 
the  commencement  of  this  speech,  gradually 
died  away.  Towards  its  close,  her  voice  grew 
tremulous,  and  as  the  last  words  escaped  her 
quivering  lips,  exhausted  nature  gave  way  un- 
der the  burden  of  her  emotion,  and  she  fainted  ! 

The  feelings  of  Ethelston  may  be  better  ima- 
gined than  described.  As  the  dreadful  import 
of  the  poor  girl's  words  gradually  broke  upon 
him,  his  cheeks  grew  paler  and  paler ;  and  when, 
at  their  conclusion,  her  senseless  form  lay  ex- 


44 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


tended  at  his  feet,  the  cold  dew  of  agony  stood 
in  drops  upon  hm  forehead  !  Uut  Nina's  condi- 
tion demanded  immediate  aid  and  attention. 
Mastering  himself  by  a  powerful  effort,  he 
snatched  a  lemon  from  a  neighbouring  tree ;  he 
cut  it  in  half,  and  sustaining  tiiu  still  insensible 
girl,  he  chafed  her  hands,  and  rubbed  her  tem- 
ples with  the  cool  refreslung  juice  of  the  fruit. 
Alter  a  time,  he  had  the  consolation  of  seeing 
her  restored  gradually  to  her  senses  ;  and  a 
faint  smile  cmie  over  her  count>  '->nce  as  nlio 
found  herself  supported  by  his  arm.  Still  she 
closed  her  eyes,  as  if  in  a  liappy  dream,  which 
Ethelston  could  not  bring  himself  to  disturb; 
and,  as  the  luxuriant  black  tresses  only  half 
veiled  the  touching  beauty  of  her  countenance, 
he  groaned  at  the  reflection  that  he  had  inad- 
vertently been  the  means  of  shedding  the  blight 
of  unrequited  love  on  a  budding  flower  of  such 
exquisite  loveliness.  A  long  silence  ensued, 
softened,  rather  than  interrupted,  by  the  low 
wind  as  it  whispered  through  the  leaves  of  the 
orange  grove  ;  while  the  surrounding  landscape, 
and  ihc  wide  expanse  of  ocean,  glowed  with  the 
red  golden  tints  of  the  parting  sun.  No  unptight- 
ed  heart  could  have  resisted  all  the  assailing 
temptations  of  that  hour.  But  Kthclston's  heart 
was  not  unplighted  ;  and  the  high  principle  and 
generous  warinih  of  his  nature  served  only  to 
deepen  the  pain  and  sadness  of  »he  present  mo- 
ment. He  formed,  hovvevti,  his  resolution  ; 
and  as  soon  as  he  found  that  Nina  was  restored 
to  consciousness  and  to  a  certain  degree  of 
composure,  he  gently  withdrew  the  arm  which 
had  supported  her,  and  said,  in  a  voice  of  most 
melancholy  earnestness,  "  Dear  Nina !  I  will 
not  pretend  to  misunderstand  what  you  have 
said. — I  have  much  to  tell  you  ;  but  I  have  not 
now  enough  command  over  myself  to  speak, 
while  you  are  still  too  agitated  to  listen.  >'>eet 
me  here  to-morrow  at  this  same  hour  ;  mean- 
while, I  entreat  you,  recal  those  harsh  and  un- 
kind thoughts  which  you  entertained  of  me ; 
and  believe  me,  dear,  dear  sister,  that  I  would, 
rather  than  have  mocked  your  feelings,  have 
died  on  that  feverish  couch,  from  which  your 
care  revived  me."  So  saying,  he  hastened 
from  her  presence  in  a  tumult  of  agitation 
scarcely  less  than  her  own. 

For  a  long  time  she  sat  motionless,  in  a  kind 
of  waking  dream  ;  his  parting  words  yet  dwelt 
in  her  ear,  and  her  passionate  heart  construed 
them  now  according  to  its  own  wild  throbbings, 
now  according  to  its  gloomiest  fears.  "  He  has 
much  to  tell  me,"  she  mused  ;  "  he  called  me 
dear  Nina ;  he  spoke  not  in  a  voice  of  indiffer- 
ence :  his  eve  was  full  of  a  troubled  expression 
that  I  could  not  reao.  Aias .'  a.'as  'twas  onlv 
pity!  He  called  me  'dear  sister!' — what  can 
he  mean  1— Oh  that  to  morrow  were  come !  I 
shall  not  outlive  the  night  unless  I  can  believe 
that  he  loves  me !"  And  then  she  fell  again 
into  a  reverie ;  during  which  all  the  looks  and 
tones  that  her  partial  fancy  had  interpreted,  and 
her  too  faithful  memory  had  treasured,  were 
recalled,  and  repeated  in  a  thousand  shapes; 
i'':tll  exhausted  by  her  agitation,  and  warned 
jy  the  darkness  of  the  hour,  Nina  retired  to  her 
sleepless  couch. 

Meanwhile  Ethelston,  when  he  found  himself 
alone  in  his  room,  scrutinized  with  the  most 
uiuparing  severity  his  past  oonduct,  endeavour- 


ing to  remember  every  careless  or  unheeded 
word  by  which  he  C0k.'J  have  awakened  or  en- 
couraged her  unsuspected  atfeotion.  He  could 
only  blame  himself  that  he  had  not  been  more 
observant ;  that  ho  had  considered  Nina  too 
much  in  the  light  of  a  child  ;  and  had  habitual- 
ly 8|)oken  to  her  in  a  tone  of  playful  and  cor:fi- 
dential  familiarity.  Thus,  though  his  conscience 
acquitted  him  of  the  most  remote  intentioii  of 
trifling  with  her  feelings,  he  accused  himself  of 
having  neglected  to  keep  a  watchful  guard  over 
his  language  and  behaviour,  and  resolved,  at  the 
risk  of  incurring  her  anger  or  her  hatred,  to  tell 
her  firmly  and  explicitly  on  the  morrow,  that 
he  could  not  requite  her  altachment  as  it  de- 
served, his  heart  having  been  lung  and  faithful- 
ly devoted  to  another. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Narrnlinitthe  trluls  nnd  dangen  Ihut  beset  RlhrUtnn  ;  nnil 
linw  he  jsciiped  from  them,  iind  from  lliu  Iiland  of 
Uiiadaluuiie. 

The  night  succeeding  the  occurrences  related 
in  the  last  chapter  brought  little  rest  to  the  pil- 
low either  of  Nina  or  of  Ethelston  ;  and  on  the 
following  day,  as  if  by  mutual  agreement,  they 
avoided  each  other's  presence,  until  the  hour 
appointed  for  th.^ir  meeting  again  in  the  orange 
grove.  Ethelston  was  (irmly  resolved  to  ex- 
plain to  her  unreservedly  his  long  engagement 
to  Lucy,  hoping  that  the  feelings  of  Nina  would 
prove,  in  this  instance,  rather  impetuous  tha" 
permanent.  The  tedious  day  appeared  to  her 
as  if  It  never  would  draw  to  a  close.  She  fled 
from  her  mother,  and  from  the  screaming  par- 
rots ;  she  tried  the  guitar,  but  it  seemed  tune- 
less and  discordant ;  her  pencil  and  her  book 
were,  by  turns,  taken  up,  and  as  soon  laid  aside  ; 
she  strolled  even  at  mid-day  into  the  orange 
grove,  to  the  spot  where  she  had  last  sat  by 
him,  and  a  blush  stole  over  her  cheek  when 
she  remembered  that  she  had  been  betrayed 
into  an  avowal  of  her  love :  and  then  dame  the 
doubt,  the  inquiry,  whether  he  felt  any  love  for 
her  1  Thus  di^  she  muse  and  ponder,  until  the 
hours,  which  in  the  morning  had  appeared  to 
creep  so  aUwIy  over  the  face  of  the  dial,  now 
glided  unconsciously  forward.  The  dinner-hour 
had  passed  unheeded ;  and  before  she  had  sum- 
moned any  of  the  courage  and  firmness  which 
she  meant  to  call  to  her  aid,  Ethelston  stood 
before  her.  He  was  surprised  at  finding  Nina 
on  this  spot,  and  hatl  approached  it  long  before 
the  appointed  time,  in  order  that  he  might  pre> 
pare  himself  for  the  difficult  and  painful  task 
which  he  had  undertaken.  But  though  unpre- 
pareu,  iiis  mind  waa  of  too  firm  and  regulated  a 
character  to  be  surprised  out  oi  a  tixed  deter- 
mination ;  and  he  came  up  and  offered  his  hand 
to  Nin .,  greeting  her  in  his  accustomed  tone  of 
familiar  friendship.  She  received  his  salutation 
with  evident  embarrassment ;  her  hand  and  her 
voice  trembled,  and  her  bosom  throbbed  in  a 
tumult  of  anxiety  and  expectation.  Ethelston 
saw  that  he  could  not  delisr  the  promised  ex- 
planation ;  and  he  commenced  it  with  his  usual 
gentleness  of  manner,  but  with  a  firm  resolve 
that  he  would  be  honest  and  explicit  in  his  lan- 
guage. He  began  by  referring  to  his  long  ill- 
ness, and,  with  gratitude,  to  her  care  and  at~ 


THE   PKAiniEBIRD. 


45 


89  or  unheeded 
wakened  or  en- 
tion.     He  could 

nut  been  more 
(Jered  Nina  too 
id  had  habitual- 
ayful  and  cor.fi- 
li  hi^  conscience 
[)t«  intention  of 
lused  hiinseHof 
sliful  guard  over 

resolved,  at  the 
sr  haired,  to  tell 
e  morrow,  that 
iment  as  it  de- 
ing  and  faithful- 


fet  Rthplstnn ;  and 
roni  tliu  hiand  of 

urrences  related 
3  rest  to  the  pil- 
on  ;  and  on  the 
igrecment,  they 

until  the  hour 
in  in  the  orange 
resolved  to  ex- 
mg  engagement 
s  of  Nina  would 
impetuous  tha» 
appeared  to  her 
close.  She  fled 
screaming  par- 
it  seemed  tune- 
1  and  her  book 
soon  laid  aside ; 
nto  the  orange 
lad  last  sat  by 
er  cheek  when 

been  betrayed 
I  then  (iame  the 
felt  any  love  fot 
onder,  until  the 
ad  appeared  to 
f  the  dial,  now 
The  dinner-hour 
e  she  had  sum- 
firmness  which 
Sthelston  stood 
it  finding  Nina 
d  it  long  before 

he  might  pre* 
id  painful  task 

though  unpre- 
ind  regulated  a 

a  tixe(!  deter- 
iffered  his  hand 
jtomcd  tone  of 
1  his  salutation 

r  hand  and  her 

throbbed  in  a 
on.  Ethelston 
i  promised  cx- 

with  his  usual 

a  tirm  resolve 
ilicit  in  his  lan- 
to  his  long  ill- 
care  and  at- 


i 


lention  during  its  continuanne ;  he  assured  her, 
that  ho.ving  been  told  both  by  Midamn  L'Es- 
trange  and  her  brother,  that  she  wis  affianced 
to  Monnieur  Bertraiid,  he  had  accustomed  him- 
self to  look  on  her  as  a  younger  sisti^r,  and,  as 
such,  had  ventured  to  offer  her  advice  and  in- 
struction in  ler  stiidips.  He  knew  not,  he 
dreamed  nut,  that  she  could  ever  look  upon 
him  in  any  otl;er  light  timn  that  of  a  Mentor. 

Here  he  paised  a  moment,  and  continued  in 
a  deeper  and  riore  earnest  we,  "  Nina— «lear 
Nina,  we  must  be  as  Meni  .iid  his  pu.iil  to 
each  other,  or  we  must  part.  I  will  fri'nkly 
lay  my  heart  open  to  you.  I  will  conceal  no- 
thing ;  then  you  will  not  blame  me,  and  will,  I 
hope,  permit  n  )  to  remain  your  g;rateful  friend 
and  brother.  Nina,  I  am  not  blind  either  to 
your  beauty,  or  to  the  many,  many  graces  (f 
your  disposition.  I  do  full  justice  to  the  warmtti 
and  truth  of  your  affections :  you  deserve,  when 
loved,  to  be  loved  with  a  whole  heart — " 

"  U  spare  this !"  interrupted  Nina,  in  a  hur- 
ried whisper ;  "  Spare  this,  speak  of  yourself !" 

"  I  was  even  about  to  do  ao,"  continued 
Ethelston  ;  "  but,  Nina,  such  a  heart  I  have  not 
to  give.  For  many  months  and  years,  before  T 
ever  saw  or  knew  you,  I  have  loved,  and  still 
am  betrothed  to  another." 

A  cold  shudder  seemed  to  pass  through  Nina's 
frame  while  these  few  words  were  spoken,  as 
if  in  a  moment  the  health,  the  hope,  the  blos- 
som of  her  youth  were  blighted  !  Not  a  tear, 
not  even  a  sob  gave  relief  to  her  agony ;  her 
bloodless  lip  trembled  in  a  vain  attempt  to  speak 
she  knew  not  what,  and  a  burning  chill  sat 
upon  her  heart.  These  words  may  appear  to 
some  strange  and  contradictory  :  happy,  thrice 
happy  ye,  to  whom  they  so  appear !  If  you 
have  never  known  what  it  is  to  feel  at  once  a 
.scurching'heat  parching  the  tongue,  and  drying 
up  all  the  well-springs  of  life  within,  while  a 
leaden  weight  of  ice  seems  to  benumb  the  heart, 
then  have  you  never  known  the  sharpest,  ex- 
treme pangs  of  disappointed  love ! 

Ethelston  was  prepared  for  some  sudden  and 
violent  expression  on  the  part  of  Nina,  but  this 
death-like,  motionless  silence  almost  overpow- 
ered him.  He  attempted,  by  the  gentlest  and 
the  kindest  words,  to  arouse  her  from  this 
stupor  of  grief.  He  took  her  hand ;  its  touch 
was  cold.  Again  and  again  he  called  her  name ; 
but  her  ear  seemed  insensible  even  to  his  voice. 
At  length,  unable  to  bear  the  sight  of  her  dis- 
tress, and  fearful  that  he  might  no  longer  re- 
strain his  tongue  from  uttering  words  which 
would  be  treason  to  his  first  and  faithful  love, 
he  rushed  into  the  house,  and  hastily  informing 
Nina's  governess  th't  her  pupil  had  been  sud- 
denly taken  ill  in  the  olive-grove,  he  locked 
himself  in  bis  room,  and  gave  vent  to  the  con- 
tending* emotions  by  which  he  was  oppressed. 

It  was  in  vain  that  he  strove  to  ca}m  himself 
by  the  reflection  that  he  had  intentionally  trans- 
gressed none  of  the  demands  of  truth  and  hon- 
iiur : — it  was  in  vain  that  he  called  up  all  the 
long-cherished  recollections  of  his  Lucy  and  his 
liome ; — still  the  image  of  Nina  would  not  be 
banished  ;  now  presenting  itself  as  he  b«4  seen 
her  yesterday,  in  the  full  glow  of  passion,  and 
in  the  full  bloom  of  youthful  beauty, — and  now, 
as  he  had  just  left  tier,  in  the  deadly  paleness 
and  fixed   apathy  of  despair.     The  terrible 


thought  that,  whether  guiltily  or  innocently,  he 
had  been  the  cause  of  all  this  suffering  in  one 
to  whom  he  owed  protection  and  gratitude, 
wrung  his  heart  with  pain  that  he  could  not  re- 
press ;  and  be  found  relief  only  in  falling  on  his 
knees,  and  praying  to  the  Almighty  that  the 
sin  might  not  be  laid  to  his  charge,  and  that 
Nina's  sorrow  might  be  soothed  and  comforted 
by  Him,  who  is  the  Goii  of  consolation. 

Meanwhile  the  governess  had,  with  the  as- 
sistance of  two  of  the  negro  attendants,  brought 
Nina  into  the  house.  The  poor  girl  continued 
in  the  same  state  of  insensibility  to  all  that  was 
passing  around ;  her  eyes  were  open,  but  she 
seemed  to  recognize  no  one,  and  a  few  vague 
indistinct  words  still  trembled  on  her  lips. 

The, doctor  was  instantly  summoned,  who 
pronounced,  as  soon  as  he  had  seen  his  patient, 
that  she  wa&  in  a  dangerous  fit,  using  sundry 
mysterious  expressions  about  "febrile  symp- 
toms," and  "  pressure  on  the  brain,"  to  which 
the  worthy  leech  added  shakings  of  the  bead 
yet  more  mysterious. 

For  many  days  her  condition  continued  alarm- 
ing ;  the  threatened  fever  came,  and  with  it  a 
piotracted  state  of  delirium.  During  this  pe- 
ritd  Ethelston's  anxiety  and  agitation  were 
extreme  ;  and  proportionate  was  the  relief  that 
he  experienced,  when  he  learned  that  the  crisis 
was  past,  and  that  the  youthful  strength  of  her 
cons'itution  promised  speedy  recovery. 

Meanwhile  he  had  to  endure  the  ofl-repeated 
inquiries  of  the  Governess,  "  How  he  happened 
to  find  Mademoiselle  just  as  the  fit  came  on  1" 
and  of  Madame  L'Estrange,  "  How  it  was  pos- 
sibte  fo/  Nina  to  be  attacked  by  so  sudden  an 
illness,  while  walking  in  the  orange-grovel" 

'Vhen  she  was  at  length  pronounced  out  of 
danger,  Ethelston  again  began  to  consider  vari- 
ous projet^ts  for  his  meditated  escape  from  the 
island.  He  had  more  than  once  held  communi- 
cation with  his  faithful  Cupid  on  the  subject, 
who  was  r>!ady  to  brave  all  risks  in  the  service 
of  hii»  niastir ;  but  the  distance  which  must  be 
traversed,  before  they  could  expect  to  find  a 
friendly  ship  or  coast,  seemed  to  excluue  all 
reasonable  hope  of  success. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  follow  and  pourti'ay 
the  thousar.d  changes  that  camu  over  Nina's 
spirit  during  her  recovery.  She  remembered 
but  too  well  th?  words  that  Ethelston  had  last 
spoken  ;  at  one  moment  she  called  him  perfidi- 
ous, ungrateful,  heartless;  then  she  chid  her- 
self for  railing  at  him,  and  loaded  his  name  with 
every  blessing,  ar.d  the  expression  of  the  fondest 
affection ;  now  6he  resolved  that  she  would 
never  see  or  speak  to  him  more;  then  she 
thought  that  she  must  see  him,  if  it  were  onlj 
to  show  how  she  hid  conquered  her  weakness. 
Amidst  all  these  contending  resolutions,  she 
worked  herself  into  the  belief  that  Ethelston 
had  deceived  her,  and  that,  because  he  thought 
her  a  child,  and  did  not  love  her,  he  had  invent- 
ed the  tale  of  his  previous  engagement  to  lessen 
her  mortification.  Tiiis  soon  became  her  set- 
tled conviction ;  ind  vhen  it  crossed  her  mind, 
she  would  start  with  passion  and  exclaim,  "He 
shall  yet  love  me,  and  ine,  alone !" 

The  only  .tonfidant  of  her  love  was  a  young 
negress  who  vaited  upoi  her,  and  who  was  in- 
deed so  devoted  to  hei  that  she  would  have 
braved  the  Commodore's  itmost  wrath,  or  peril- 


40 


THE  PRAIRIE  BIRD. 


led  her  lifo  to  execute  her  mistress's  cotn- 
mutuls. 

It  happened  one  evening  that  this  girl,  whose 
name  was  Fanchelto,  went  uiit  tu  gather  some 
fruit  in  the  orange- grove;  and  while  thus  em- 
ployed she  heard  the  voice  of  some  one  speak- 
ing. On  drawing  nearer  to  the  spot  whence  the 
sound  proceeded,  she  saw  Kthelston  sitting  un- 
der the  deep  shade  of  a  tree,  with  what  appear- 
ed a  book  before  him. 

Knowing  that  Nina  was  still  confined  to  her 
room,  he  had  resorted  hither  to  consider  his 
schemes  without  interruption,  and  was  so  busi- 
ly employed  in  comparing  distances,  and  calcu- 
lating possibilities,  on  the  map  before  him, 
that  Fanchetto  easily  crept  to  a  place  whence 
she  could,  unperceived,  overhear  and  observe 
him.  "  1  must  and  will  attempt  it,"  he  mutter- 
ed aloud  to  himself,  "  we  must  steal  a  boat. 
Cupid  and  I  can  manage  it  netween  us;  my 
duty  and  my  love  holli  forbid  my  staying  longer 
here;  with  a  fishing-boat  we  might  reach  An- 
tigua i«.r  Dominica,  or  at  all  events  chance  to  fall 
in  with  an  American  or  a  neutral  vessel.  P<M)r 
dear  Nina,"  he  added,  in  a  lower  tone,  "  Would 
to  Qod  I  had  never  visited  this  shore  !  ihi$,"  he 
continued,  drawing  a  locket  from  his  nreast, 
"this  treasured  remembrance  of  one  far  distant 
has  made  me  proof  against  thy  charms,  cold  to 
thy  love,  but  not,  as  Heaven  is  my  witness,  un- 
moved or  insensible  to  thy  sufferings."  £o  S!!y. 
ing  he  relapsed  into  silent  musing,  and  as  he  re- 
placed the  locket.  Fanchelte  crept  noiselessly 
from  her  concealment,  and  ran  to  communicate 
to  her  young  mistress  her  version  of  what  she 
had  seen.  Ueing  very  imperfectly  skilled  in  En- 
glish, she  put  her  own  construction  upon  those 
few  words  which  she  had  caught,  and  thought 
to  serve  Nina  best  by  telling  her  what  she  would 
most  like  to  hear.  Thus  she  described  to  her 
how  Ethelston  had  8|>oken  to  himself  over  a 
map ;  how  he  had  mentioned  islands  to  which 
he  would  sail;  bow  he  had  named  her  name 
with  tenderness,  and  had  taken  something  from 
his  vest  to  press  it  to  his  lips." 

Pour  Nina  listened  in  a  tumult  of  joy ;  her 
passionate  heart  would  admit  no  doubting  sug 
gestion  of  her  reason.  She  was  too  happy  to 
bear  even  the  presence  of  Fanchette,  and  re- 
warding her  for  her  good  news  by  the  present 
of  a  beautiful  shawl  which  she  wore  at  the  mo- 
ment, pushed  the  delighted  little  negress  out  of 
the  room,  and  threw  herself  on  a  couch,  where 
she  repeated  a  hundred  times  that  he  had  been 
to  her  orange-grove,  where  they  had  last  parted, 
had  named  her  name  with  tenderness,  had  press- 
ed some  token  to  his  lips — what  could  that  be1 
It  might  be  a  flower,  a  book,  anything — it  mat- 
tered net — so  long  as  she  only  knew  he  loved 
her !  Having  long  wept  with  impassioned  joy, 
she  deteimined  to  show  herself  worthy  of  his 
lov(  and  the  schemes  which  she  formed,  and 
resolved  to  carry  into  effect,  evinced  the  wild 
force  and  energy  of  her  romantic  character. 
Among  her  father's  slaves  was  one  who.  being 
a  steady  and  skilful  seaman,  had  the  charge  of 
a  schooner  (originally  an  American  prize)  which 
lay  in  the  harbour,  and  which  the  Commodore 
sometimes  used  as  a  pleasure-yacht,  or  for  short 
trips  to  other  parts  of  the  island :  this  man 
(whose  name  was  Jacques)  was  not  only  a 
great  favourite  with  the  young  lady,  but  was 


also  smitten  with  the  black  eyes  and  ptump- 
cliarins  of  M'amselle  Fanchette,  who  thus  ex- 
ercised over  him  a  sway  little  short  of  absolute. 
Nina  having  held  a  conference  with  her  abigail, 
sent  for  Jacques,  who  was  also  admitted  to  a- 
coiilidential  consultation,  the  result  of  which, 
afler  occurrences  will  explain  tu  the  reader. 
When  this  was  over,  she  acquired  rather  than 
assumed  a  sudden  composure  and  cheerfiilm'ss  ; 
the  delights  of  a  plot  seemed  at  once  to  ri:^uire 
her  tu  health  ;  and  on  the  following  day  she  sent 
tu  request  that  Ethelston  would  come  to  see  her 
in  her  boudoir  where  she  received  him  with  a 
calmness  and  self-possession  for  which  he  was 
altogether  unprepared.  "  Mr.  Ethelston,"  said 
she,  as  soon  as  he  was  seated,  "  I  believe  you 
still  desire  tu  escape  from  your  prison,  and  that 
you  are  devising  various  plans  fur  effecting  that 
object ;  you  will  never  succeed  unless  you  call 
me  into  your  counsel." 

Ethelston,  though  extremely  surprised  at  tho 
composure  of  her  manner  and  language,  replied 
with  a  smile,  "  M'amselle  Nina,  I  will  not  deny 
that  you  have  rightly  guessed  my  thoiiKbts  ;  but. 
as  your  father  is  my  jaihir,  I  did  not  dare  to  ask 
your  counsel  in  this  matter." 

"  Well.  Mr.  Mentor,"  said  the  wayward  girl, 
"  how  docs  your  wisdom  propose  tu  act  without 
my  counsel  ?" 

"  I  confess  I  am  somewhat  at  a  loss,"  said 
Ethelston,  good-humouredly ;  "  I  must  go  either 
thrungh  the  air  or  the  water,  and  the  latier,  being 
my  proper  element,  is  the  path  which  I  \\uuld 
rather  attempt." 

".\nd  what  should  you  think  of  me,  if  f  were 
to  play  the  trai'oress,  and  aid  you  in  eluding  the 
vigilance  of  my  father,  and  aflurd  the  means  of 
escape  to  so  formidable  an  enemy  V 

Ethelston  was  completely  puzzled  by  this 
playful  tone  of  banter  in  one  whom  he  had  last 
seen  under  a  paroxysm  of  passion,  and  in  whoso 
dark  eye  there  yet  lurked  an  expression  which 
he  could  nut  define  ;  but  he  resolved  to  continue 
the  conversation  in  the  same  spirit,  and  replied, 
"I  would  not  blame  you  for  this  act  of  filial  dis- 
obedience, and  though  no  longer  your  fat^r's 
prisoner,  I  would,  if  I  escaped,  ever  remain  his 
friend." 

"And  would  you  show  no  gratitude  to  the 
lady  who  efTected  your  release?" 

"  I  owe  her  clready  more — far  more,  than  I 
can  pay  ;  and,  for  this  last  crowning  act  of  her 
generosity  and  kindness,  I  would — " 

As  he  hesitated,  she  inquired  .  bruptly,  "  Yon 
would  what,  Ethelston  1"  Fur  a  moment  she' 
had  forgotten  the  part  she  was  acting,  and  both 
the  look  that  accompanied  these  words,  and  tho 
time  in  which  they  were  pronounced,  reminded 
him  that  he  stood  on  the  brink  of  a  volcanic  crater. 

"  I  would  give  her  any  proof  of  my  gratitude 
that  she  would  deign  tu  accept,  yes  any"  he  re- 
peated earnestly,  "  even  to  life  itself,  knowing 
that  she  is  too  noble  and  generous  to  accept 
aught  at  my  hands  whic'>  faith  and  honour  fur- 
bid  me  to  offer." 

Nina  turned  aside  for  a  moment,  overcome 
by  her  emotion  ;  but  recovering  herself  quickly, 
she  addg^,  in  her  former  tone  of  pleasantry, 
"  She  will  not  impose  any  hard  conditions  ;  liut 
t»  the  purpose,  has  your  sailor-pye  noticed  a 
certain  little  schooner  anchored  in  the  harbour  V 

"  What !"  said  Ethelston,  eagerly,  "  a  beau 


1 


1 


THE  PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


4T 


'68  and  plump 
who  thus  ex- 
nrt  of  abmilute. 
ith  licr  ahignil, 
admitted  tu  a. 
Bult  of  which, 
to  ttie  read»!r. 
ed  rather  than 
Icheerfiiln'ss; 
lined  to  ri-'biore 
ng  day  she  sent 
ionie  to  see  her 
red  him  with  a 
which  he  was 
Uhi'lston,"  said 
"  I  heheve  you 
prison,  and  that 
ir  efTecting  that 
unless  you  call 

iiirprised  at  the 
ingiiage,  rcpht-d 

I  will  not  deny 
y  thoughts ;  but 

not  dure  to  ask 

B  wayward  girl, 
e  to  act  without 

at  a  loss,"  said 

I  must  go  cither 

the  latier,  being 

which  I  \vould 

of  me,  if  r  were 
)u  in  eluding  the 
rd  the  means  ol 
iiy  V 

)uzzled  by  this 
)om  he  had  last 
in,  and  in  whoso 
xpiession  which 
lived  to  continue 
irit,  and  replied, 
act  of  filial  dk<- 
sr  your  fat^r's 
ever  remain  his 

H'atitude  to  the 

ar  more,  than  I 

rning  act  of  her 

d— " 
bruptly,  "  You 
a  moment  she' 

tcting,  and  both 
words,  and  the 
need,  reminded 
volcanic  crater, 
if  my  gratitude 

^es  any"  he  re- 
itself,  knowing 
rous  to  accept 
ind  honour  fur- 

oent,  overcome 
herself  quickly, 

of  pleasantry, 
ioiidilioiis  ;  hut 
■pye  noticed  a 

the  harbour  V 
eriy,  "  a  beau 


tiful  craft  of  about  twenty  tons,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  hay  !" 
"  Even  the  same." 

"  Surely  I  have  !  She  is  American  built,  and 
swims  like  a  duck." 

"  Well  then,"  replied  Nina,  "  I  think  I  shall 
do  no  great  barm  in  restoring  her  to  an  Ameri- 
can !  How  many  men  should  yon  require  to 
manage  her !" 

"  1  could  sail  her  easily  with  one  able  seaman 
besides  my  black  friend  Cupid." 

"  Then,"  said  Nina,  "  I  propose  to  lend  her 
to  you ;  you  may  send  her  hack  at  your  conve- 
nience, and  I  will  also  provide  you  an  able  sea- 
man ;  write  me  a  list  of  the  stores  and  articles 
which  you  will  require  for  the  trip,  and  send  it 
me  in  an  hour's  time :  prepare  your  own  hag- 
gage,  and  be  ready  upon  the  shortest  notice ;  it 
is  now  my  turn  to  command  and  yours  to  obey. 
(Jwid-bye,  Mr.  Mentor."  So  saying,  she  kissed 
her  hand  to  him  and  withdrew. 

Ethelston  rubbed  his  eyes  as  if  he  did  not  be- 
lieve their  evidence.  "  Could  this  merry,  ready- 
witted  girl  be  the  same  as  the  Nina  whom  he 
had  seen,  ten  days  before,  heart-broken,  and 
unable  to  conceal  or  repress  the  violence  of  her 
passion  V  The  longer  he  mused,  the  more  was 
he  puzzled  ;  and  he  came  at  length  to  a  conclu- 
sion at  which  many  more  wise  and  more  foolish 
than  himself  had  arrived,  that  a  woman's  mind, 
when  influenced  by  her  aflections,  is  a  riddle' 
hard  to  be  solved.  He  had  not,  however,  much 
time  for  reflection,  and  being  resolved  at  all  risks 
to  esoape  from  the  island,  he  hastened  to  his 
room,  and  within  the  hour  specifled  by  Nina, 
sent  her  a  list  of  the  stores  a  .d  provisions  for 
the  voyage. 

Meanwhile  Fanchette  had  not  been  idle,  she 
had  painted  to  Jacques,  in  the  liveliest  colours, 
the  wealth,  beauty,  and  freedom  of  the  distant 
land  of  Ohio,  artfully  mingling  with  this  descrip- 
tion promises  and  allurements  which  operated 
more  directly  on  the  feelings  of  her  black  swain, 
so  that  the  latter,  finding  himself  entreated  by 
Fanchette,  and  commanded  by  his  young  m  '^- 
tress,  hesitated  no  longer  to  betray  his  trust  a 
desert  the  Commodore. 

Ethelston,  havmg  communicated  the  prosper- 
ous state  of  affairs  to  Cupid,  and  desired  him  to 
have  all  ready  for  immediate  escape,  hastened 
to  obey  another  summons  sent  to  him  by  Nina ; 
he  found  her  in  a  mood  no  less  cheerful  than 
before,  and  although  she  purposely  averted  her 
face,  a  smile,  the  meaning  of  which  he  could 
not  define,  played  round  the  corner  of  her  ex- 
pressive mouth.  Though  really  glad  to  escape 
homeward,  and  disposed  to  be  grateful  to  Nina 
for  her  aid,  he  could  not  help  feeling  angry  and 
vexed  at  the  capricious  eagerness  with  which 
she  busied  herself  in  contriving  the  departure  of 
one  to  whom  she  had  so  lately  given  the  strong- 
est demonstration  of  tenderness ;  and  although 
his  heart  told  him  that  he  could  not  love  her, 
there  was  something  in  this  easy  and  sudden 
withdrawal  of  her  affection  which  wounded  that 
self-love  from  which  the  best  of  men  are  not  al- 
together free.  These  feelings  gave  an  unusual 
coldness  and  constraint  to  his  manner,  when  he 
inquired  her  farther  commands. 

To  this  question  Nina  replied  by  saying, 
"  Then,  Mr.  Ethels-ion,  you  are  quite  resolved 
to  leave  us,  and  tr  risk  all  the  chances  and  per- 
ils of^this  voyage !" 


"  Quite,"  he  replied  ;  "  it  is  my  wish,  my  du- 
ty, and  my  Arm  determination ;  and  I  entered' 
the  room,"  he  added  almost  in  a  tone  of  reproof, 
"  desirous  of  repeating  to  you  my  thanks  fur 
your  kind  assistance." 

Nina's  countenance  changed  ;  but  still  avert- 
ing it  from  Ethelston,  she  continued  in  a  lower 
voice,  "  And  do  you  leave  us  without  pain- 
without  regret." 

There  was  a  tremor,  a  natural  feeling  in  thn 
tone  in  which  she  uttered  these  few  words,  that 
recalled  to  his  mind  all  that  he  had  seen  her 
suffer,  and  drove  from  it  the  harsh  thoughts 
whicli  he  had  begun  to  entertam,  and  he  an- 
swered in  a  voice  from  which  his  self-command 
could  not  banish  all  traces  of  emotion,  "  Dear 
Nina,  I  shall  leave  you  with  regret  that  would 
amount  to  misery,  if  1  thought  that  my  visit  had 
brought  any  permanent  unhappiness  into  this 
house  I  desire  to  leave  you  as  a  Mentor  should 
leave  a  beloved  pupil — as  a  brother  leaves  a 
sister :  with  a  full  hope  that  when  I  am  gone 
you  will  fulfil  your  parents'  wishes,  your  own 
auspicious  destinies,  and  that,  afler  years  and 
years  of  happiness  among  those  whom  Fate 
has  decreed  to  be  the  companions  of  your  life, 
you  will  look  back  upon  me  as  upon  a  faithful 
adviser  of  your  youth, — an  affectionate  friend 
who " 

Nina's  nerves  were  not  strung  for  the  part 
she  had  undertaken  ;  gradually  her  countenance 
had  grown  pale  as  marble ;  a  choking  sensa- 
tion oppressed  her  throat,  and  she  sunk  in  a 
chair,  sobbing,  rather  than  uttering,  the  word 
"Water."  It  was  fortunately  at  hand,  and 
having  placed  it  in  a  glass  by  her  side,  Ethel- 
ston retired  to  the  window  to  conceal  his  own 
emotion,  and  to  allow  time  fur  that  of  Nina  tu 
subside. 

After  a  few  minutes  she  recovered  her  self- 
possession  ;  and  although  still  deadly  pale,  her 
voice  was  distinct  and  firm,  as  she  said,  "  Ethel- 
ston, I  am  ashamed  of  this  weakness  ;  but  it  i» 
over :  we  will  not  speak  of  the  past,  and  will 
leave  to  fate  the  future.  Now  listen  to  me  : 
all  the  arrangements  for  your  departure  will  be 
complete  by  to-morrow  evening.  At  an  hour 
before  midnight  a  small  boat,  with  one  man,  will 
be  at  the  Quai  du  Marche,  below  the  place  St. 
Louis.  It  is  far  from  the  fort,  and  there  is  no 
sentry  near  the  spot ;  you  can  then  row  to  the 
vessel  and  depart.  But  is  it  not  too  dangerousV 
she  added  ;  "  Can  you  risk  it  1  for  the  wind 
whistles  terribly,  and  I  fear  the  approach  of  a 
hurricane !" 

Ethelston's  eye  brightened  as  he  replied,  "  A 
rough  night  is  the  fairest  for  the  purpose,  Nina." 

"  Be  it  so,"  she  replied.  "  Now,  in  return 
for  all  that  I  have  done  for  you,  there  is  onlyr 
one  favour  I  have  to  ask  at  your  bands." 

"  Name  it,"  said  Ethelston,  eagerly. 

"  There  is,"  she  continued,  "  a  poor  sick 
youth  in  the  town,  the  child  of  respectable  pa- 
rents in  New  Orleans ;  he  desires  to  go  home, 
if  it  be  only  to  die  there ;  and  a  nurse  will  lako 
care  of  him  on  the  passage  if  you  will  let  him  go 
with  ;iou  V 

"  Assuredly  I  will,"  said  Ethelston  ;  "  and 
will  take  as  much  care  of  hiin  as  if  he  were  my 
brother." 

"  Nay,"  said  Nina,  "  they  tell  me  he  is  order- 
ed to  be  perfectly  quiet,  and  no  one  attends  him' 


1 


48 


THE  PRAIRIEBTRD. 


but  the  nurtfl ;  neither  will  he  give  i;ny  troubln, 
!i8  tlie  coxswain  ■nyn  tlinro  is  a  mnall  cabin 
whore  he  can  remain  alone  and  undiiiturbed." 

"  Ydii  may  depend,"  aaid  KihelMtun,  "  that  all 
your  orders  about  him  Hhall  be  laithrully  per- 
I'oitned ;  and  I  will  see,  it  I  live,  that  he  rcacli- 
68  hm  home  in  aafcty." 

"  He  and  his  nurse  will  bo  on  board  before 
you,"  said  Nina  :  "  and  as  soon  as  you  reach 
the  vessel,  you  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  escape 
as  quick  as  yuu  can.  Now  I  must  bid  you 
farewHil !  I  may  nut  have  spirita  to  see  you 
ajjain  1"  She  held  out  her  hand  to  him ;  it  was 
cold  ni  ice ;  her  face  was  still  halT-avertod,  and 
her  wh'de  frame  trembled  violently. 

Ethel.Uur,  took  the  otrered  hand,  and  pressed 
it  to  his  lips,  saying,  "  A  thousand,  thousand 
thanks  for  all  your  kindness !  If  I  reach  home 
alive  I  will  make  your  hoooured  father  ample 
amends  fu,*  the  thel^  of  his  schooner ;  and  if  ever 
you  have  an  opportunity  to  let  me  know  that 
vou  are  we.'l  and  happy,  do  not  forget  that  such 
news  will  always  gladden  my  heart."  He 
turned  to  look  at  her  as  he  went ;  he  doubted 
whether  the  cold  rigid  apathy  of  her  form  and 
countenance  was  that  of  despair  or  of  indiffer- 
ence ;  but  ho  dared  not  trust  himself  longer  in 
her  presence  ;  .and  aa  he  left  the  room  she  sunk 
on  the  chair  ag.iinst  which  she  had  been  leaning 
fur  support. 

When  Ethels\'on  found  himself  alone,  he  col- 
lected his  thoughts,  and  endeavoured  in  vain 
to  account  for  tlio  strange  deportment  of  Nina 
in  bidding  him  fircwell.  The  cooiress  of  her 
manner,  the  abru^it  brevity  of  her  parting  ad- 
dress, had  surprised  him  ;  and  yet  the  tremor, 
the  emotion,  amounting  almo:it  to  fainting,  the 
forced  tune  of  voice  in  which  she  had  spoken, 
ull  fort>ad  him  to  hope  that  she  had  overcome 
her  uniiappy  passion ;  he  was  grieved  that  he 
had  scarcely  parted  from  her  in  kindness,  and 
the  pity  with  which  he  regarded  her  was,  for 
the  moment,  almost  aiiin  to  love. 

Shaking  off  this  tem|)orary  weakness,  he  em- 
ploycu  himself  forthwith  in  the  preparations  for 
his  departure  ;  among  the  first  of  which  was  a 
letter,  which  he  wrote  to  Captain  L'Estrange, 
and  left  upon  his  table.  On  the  following  day 
he  never  once  saw  Nina ;  but  he  heard  from 
one  of  the  slaves  that  she  was  confined  to  her 
room  by  severe  headach. 

The  wind  blew  with  undi>ated  force,  the  even- 
ing was  dark  and  lowerini;  as,  at  the  appointed 
hour,  Ethelston,  accompanied  by  his  faithful 
Cupid,  left  the  house  with  noiseless  step.  They 
reached  the  boat  wiibout  otetruction  ;  vushed 
tiff,  and  in  ten  minutes  were  safe  on  d««-k ;  the 
coxswain  \>  hispered  that  all  was  reat.iy ;  the 
boat  was  hotsteU  u^v  the  anchor  weighed,  and 
the  schooner  mvm  soon  dashing  the  foam  from 
her  bowc  ub  ime  o^f  sea 


CHAPTER  XV.  ?  • 

ok  place  at  Muoohnniw  during  the  atay  of  Ethel- 
^In  GuadaloitiM.— Departure  'tf  Reginald  for  the 
fop-wert. 

Wwii.K  the  events  reUt^  in  the  last  two 
chapters  occurred  at  Gua«i  aiiwipe,  Reginald  was 
busily  employed  at  Moush«iine  in  completing 
the  preparations  fur  his  piu^ected  visit  to  the 


Delawnres,  in  the  Par-WMt  fhe  hid  (by  pnttinf 
ill  practice  the  instructions  given  him  by  War> 
Eiigle  respecting  Nekimi)  at  length  succeeded 
in  gaining  that  noble  animal's  affection  ;  he 
neighed  at  Reginald's  approach,  knew  and 
obeyed  his  voice,  fed  from  his  hand,  and  re- 
ceived and  returned  his  caresses,  as  he  had 
before  done  those  of  his  Indian  master.  It  was 
when  mounted  on  Nekimi  that  our  hero  found 
his  spirit  most  exulting  and  buoyant ;  he  gave 
him  the  rein  on  the  broadest  of  the  neighbour- 
ing prairies,  and  loved  to  feel  the  springy  fleet- 
nesB  and  untiring  muscles  of  this  child  of  the 
western  desert.  Sometimes,  al\er  a  gallop  of 
many  miles,  he  would  leap  from  the  saddle,  ts 
look  with  pride  and  pleasure  on  the  spirited 
eye,  the  full  veins,  the  expanded  nostril  of  his 
favourite;  at  other  times  ho  would  ride  him 
slowly  through  the  most  tangled  and  diHioult 
ground,  admiring  the  instinctive  and  unerring 
sagacity  with  which  he  picked  his  way. 

Among  Reginald's  other  accomplishments, 
he  had  learned  in  Oermany  to  play  not  nnskil- 
fully  on  the  horn ;  and  constantly  carrying  his 
bugle  across  his  shoulders,  Nekimi  grew  so  ac- 
customed to  the  sound,  that  he  would  come  to 
It  from  any  distance  within  hear'ng  of  its  call. 
It  appeared  to  Reginald  so  probable  that  the 
bugle  might  render  him  good  service  on  his 
summer  excursion,  that  he  not  only  practised 
his  horse  to  it,  but  ho  prevailed  on  Bapliste  to 
learn  his  various  signals,  and  even  to  reply  on 
another  horn  to  some  of  the  simplest  of  them. 
The  honest  guide's  first  attempts  to  sound  the 
bugle  were  ludicrous  in  the  extreme ;  but  he 
good-humouredly  persevered,  until  Reginald 
and  be  could,  from  a  considerable  distance, 
exchange  many  useful  signals  agreed  upon  be- 
tween them,  and  of  course  intelligible  to  none 
but  themselves.  Among  these  were  the  follow- 
ing: "Beware  !" — "Come  to  me," — "Be  still," 
— "  Bring  my  horse,"  and  one  or  two  others  for 
hunting  purposes,  s'lch  as  "A  bear!" — "Buffa- 
lo!" To  these  they  added  a  reply,  which  was 
always  to  signify  "I  understand."  But  if  the 
party  called  was  prevented  from  obeying,  this 
signal  was  to  be  varied  accordingly. 

At  the  same  time  Reginald  did  not  omit  to 
learn  from  the  guide  a  number  of  Delaware 
words  and  phrases,  in  order  that  when  lie  nr- 
rived  among  his  new  friends  he  might  not  be 
altogether  excluded  from  commanication  with 
such  of  them  as  should  not  understand  Eng- 
lish ;  in  these  preparations,  and  occasional 
hunts  in  company  with  Baptiste,  his  time  would 
have  glided  on  agreeably  enough,  had  he  nut 
observed  with  anxiety  the  settled  melancholy 
that  was  gradually  creeping  over  his  sister  Lu- 
cy ;  it  was  in  vain  that  he  strove  to  comfort  her 
by  reminding  her  of  the  thousand  trifling  acci- 
dents that  might  have  detained  Ethelston  in 
the  West  Indies,  and  have  prevented  his  lett  jrs 
from  reaching  home.  She  smiled  upon  him 
kindly  for  his  well-meant  endeavours,  and  not 
only  abstained  from  all  complaint,  hut  tried  to 
take  her  part  iri  conversation ;  yet  he  saw 
plainly  that  her  cheerfulness  was  forced,  and 
that  secret  sorrow  was  at  her  heart.  .She  em- 
ployed herself  assiduously  in  tending  her  moth- 
er, whose  health  had  ot  late  become  exceed- 
ingly precarious,  and  wno  v,a»  almost  always 
confined  to  her  apartments     Lucy  worked  by 


j 


i 


THE  PRAIRIR-niRD. 


id  (by  (tutting 
him  by  War- 
ih  lucoeedRd 
ttTection  ;  he 
,  knew  and 
Dand,  and  re- 
«,  as  he  had 
jter.  It  was 
Lir  hero  found 
nnt ;  he  (jave 
lie  neighbour- 
apringy  fleet- 
I  child  of  the 
!r  a  gallop  of 
the  aaddle,  t9 
I  the  spirited 
nostril  of  his 
old  ride  him 
I  and  diffloult 
and  unerring 
I  way. 

implishments, 
ay  not  nnskiU 
y  carrying  his 
li  grew  so  ac- 
irould  come  to 
ng  of  its  call, 
lable  that  the 
ervice  on  his 
only  practised 
on  Baptiste  to 
en  to  reply  on 
plest  of  them. 
I  to  sound  the 
feme ;  but  he 
intil    Reginald 
able  distance, 
treed  upon  be- 
ligiblo  to  none 
ere  the  follow- 
>•  Be  still," 
two  others  for 
ar!"— "Buffa- 
ily,  which  was 
But  if  the 
obeying,  this 

uly. 

id  not  omit  to 
of  Di'lawHre 
when  Im  «r- 
might  not  be 
anieation  with 
[lerstand  Eng- 
nd    occasional 
his  time  would 
h,  had  he  not 
ed  melancholy 
his  sister  Lu- 
to  comfort  bet 
d  trifling  acei- 
1  Ethelston  in 
ited  his  lett':rs 
lied  upon  him 
rours,  and  not 
t,  but  tried  to 
yet  he  saw 
as  fwced,  and 
lart.     .She  em- 
ding  her  muth- 
icome  exceed- 
almost  always 
icy  worked  by 


her  side,  conversed  with  her,  read  to  her,  and 
dill  ail  in  her  piiwur  to  hido  from  her  thn  grief 
tliiU  poRNeiMed  her  own  boHimi  Keglnuld 
iiiiirkeil  the  struggle,  which  Htrenirt'iened,  if 
pimxilile,  the  love  ttiiit  hchnd  alWHyii  I'elt  fur  his 
(jxeinplrtry  and  ant'cllonato  nijiior. 

One  day  he  was  kitting  with  her  in  tlin  bnu- 
diiir,  which  eomnmniieu,  n.t  wo  have  beforu 
olmcrved,  a  view  of  tlio  approach  to  the  house, 
wlicro  they  saw  a  horseman  coming  at  full 
Mperil.  As  ho  drew  near,  h«  seemed  lo  lie  a 
muldie'Uged  man,  wenrini;  »  bruad-liriinmed 
hat,  a  coursn  over-cuat,  and  Inoso  (rowsers; 
liiH  knees  were  high  up  on  thn  saddle,  and  he 
rode  in  so  careless  and  reckless  a  manner,  that 
it  was  marvellous  how  the  uncouth  rider  could 
remain  on  his  horse  in  a  gallop.  Reginald 
threw  open  llie  window;  and  as  the  strange- 
looking  ligure  caught  a  sight  of  him,  thn  steed 
was  urged  yet  faster,  and  the  broad-brir.imcd 
hat  was  waved  in  token  of  recognition. 

"  Now  Heaven  be  praised !"  exclaimed  Regi- 
nald aloud;  "'tis  Gregson,  the  mate!"  He 
turned  towards  his  sister:  the  blood  had  fled 
iriim  her  cheeks  and  lip,  her  hands  were  clasped 
together,  and  she  whispered  in  a  voice  scarcely 
articulate,  "  Heaven  be  merciful!" 

"Nay,  I.ucy,"  said  her  sanguine  brother, 
"why  this  erief^.  are  you  not  glad  that  the 
Pride  is  returned  ?" 

"Oh,  Reginald!"  said  Lucy,  looking  on  him 
reproaehfiilly  through  the  tears  which  now 
."Streamed  from  her  eyes.  "Think  you  that  if 
he  had  been  alive  and  well,  he  would  havo  al- 
lowed another  to  come  hero  before  him!  Oo 
and  8peak  to  the  man — I  cannot  s«e  bim — you 
will  return  and  tell  me  all." 

Reginald  felt  the  reproof,  and  kissing  her  af- 
fectionately, hastened  from  tlio  room. 

Who  shall  attempt  to  lift  the  veil  from  Lucy's 
heart  during  the  suspense  of  the  succeeding 
minutes  1  It  is  fortunate  for  human  nature, 
that  at  such  a  moment  the  mind  is  too  confused 
to  he  conscious  of  its  own  suflerings;  the  min- 
gled emotions  of  hope  and  fear,  the  half-breathed 
prayer,— the  irresistihjc  desire  to  learn,  con- 
tending with  tlif  IrvaU  oi  more  assured  misery, 
— all  these  umie  in  producing  that  agony  of 
.susijcnse  wkwrh  it  is  imposslhio  to  describe  in 
words,  ai.w  u»  hich  the  mind  of  the  suflerer 
can  achinmty  »ealize  afterwards  a  distinct  iin- 
pressic>» 

.^ft«^  a  sJwrt  absence,  Reginald  returned,  and 
said  i«  his  sister,  "Lucy,  Ethelston  is  not  here, 
hui  *M  IS  alive  and  safe." 

She  hid  her  face  in  her  brother's  breast,  and 
ttmmi  relief  In  a  flood  of  grateful  tears.  As  soon 
mt  Imcy  had  recovered  her  composure,  her 
br«her  informed  her  of  Ethelston's  captivity, 
and  of  the  serious,  though  not  dangerous 
wounds,  that  he  had  received  ;  but  he  mingled 
with  the  narratitm  such  warm  praises  of  hia 
friend's  heroic  defence  of  the  brig,  and  so  many 
sanguine  assurances  of  his  speedy  release  and 
retarn,  that  her  fears  and  her  anxiety  were  for 
.1  time  absorbed  in  the  glow  of  pride  with  which 
she  listened  to  the  praises  of  her  lover's  con- 
duct, and  in  the  anticipation  of  soon  having  his 
adventures  from  his  own  lips.  The  faithful 
mate  received  a  kind  welcome  from  the  Colo- 
nel, and  though  the  latter  had  sustained  a  severe 
loss  in  the  brig,  he  viewed  it  as  a  misfortune 


fur  which  no  one  could  bn  blamed  ;  and  directed 
all  his  anxiety  and  hm  inquirirn  to  the  condition 
of  Kthelston,  whom  he  loved  as  his  own  son 

"  Depend  on't,  (Joloni'l,"  said OregKon,  "he'll 
rome  to  no  harm  where  hn  is,  for  I.'Kstrange 
is  a  flne  old  fellow,  and  Master  KlhelHion  saved 
his  Hon'.H  neck  from  my  cullasn  I  was  citlin' 
at  hiin  in  downriglit  airnest,  for  my  dander  was 
up,  and  you  know,  (.'tdonel,  a  trian  a'nt  particu- 
lar nice  in  a  dock  scurry  like  that !" 

'  And  what  made  him  so  anxious  to  save  the 
youiiif«ler'"  inqiiircd  the  Cidotiel. 

"  Why,  I  s'pose  he  tlionght  tlie  day  was  our 
own,  and  the  lieutenant  loo  smart  a  lad  to  be 
roughly  handled  for  naught ;  but  the  young  mad- 
cap put  a  pistol-ball  into  his  arm  by  way  of 
thanks" 

"  Well,  and  did  Ethelston  still  protect  himl" 

"  Ay,  sir,  all  the  same.  I've  served  with  a 
number  of  captains  o'  one  sort  or  other,  smug- 
glers, and  slave-cruizcrs,  and  old  Diirt,  that  the 
(^uba  pirates  used  to  called  Gunpowder  Jack, 
but  I  will  say  I  never  saw  a  better  man  than 
Ethelston  step  a  deck,  whether  it's  '  up  slick  and 
make  sail,'  or  a  heavy  gale  on  a  lee-shore,  or  a 
game  at  long  howls,  or  a  hammer-away  fight  at 
yard-arm  to  yard-arm,  it's  all  one  to  our  skip- 
per, he's  just  as  cool  and  seems  as  well  pleas- 
ed, as  when  it's  a  free  breeze,  a  clear  sea,  and 
Black  Cnpid  has  piped  to  dinner." 

"  He  is  a  gallant  young  fellow,"  said  the  Col- 
onel, brushing  a  little  moisture  f  om  the  corner 
of  his  eye  ;  "  and  wo  will  immediately  take  all 
possible  measures  for  his  liberation,  both  by 
applying,  throuL'h  Congress,  for  his  exchange, 
and  by  communicating  with  the  French  agents 
at  New  Orleans." 

The  conversation  was  protracted  for  some 
time,  and  after  its  termination,  the  mate  having 
satisfied  himself  that  the  Mooshanne  cider  had 
lost  none  of  its  flavour,  and  that  Monsieur  Per- 
rot's  flask  contained  genuine  cognac,  returned 
in  high  spirits  to  Marietta. 

The  preparations  for  Reginald's  expedition 
now  went  briskly  forward,  as  the  business 
which  the  Colonel  wished  him  to  transact  with 
the  trading  companies,  on  the  Mississippi  did 
not  admit  of  delay.  A  large  canoe  was  fitted 
out  at  Marietta,  capable  of  containing  sixteen  or 
eighteen  persons,  and  possessing  sutiicient 
stowage  for  the  provisions  and  goods  required  ; 
the  charge  of  it  was  given  to  an  experienced 
Voyagenr,  who  had  more  than  once  accompa- 
nied Baptiste  in  his  excursions  to  the  Upper 
Mississippi  and  the  Great  Lakes ;  he  was  a 
steady  determined  man,  on  whose  fidelity  reli- 
ance might  he  placed,  and  well  calculatea,  from 
the  firmness  of  his  character,  to  keep  in  order 
the  ron<jh  and  sturdy  fellows  who  formed  his 
crew  Born  and  bred  in  that  wild  border  re- 
gion which  now  forms  the  State  of  Michigan, 
the  woods,  rapids,  and  lakes  had  been  familiar 
to  him  from  his  childhoou  ;  unli!  e  most  of  his 
tribe,  he  was  singularly  grave  and  taciturn  ;  ho 
always  wore  a  bearskin  cap,  and  whether  in  his 
bateau,  his  canoe,  or  hia  log-hut,  his  bed  was  of 
the  same  material,  so  that  he  was  known  only 
by  the  name  of  "  Bearskin  ;"  his  paternal  ap- 
pellation, whatever  it  might  have  been  original- 
ly, having  become  altogether  obsolete  and  un- 
known. His  crew  consisted  of  four  stout  fel- 
lows, who,  like  most  of  the  Indiaa  borderers, 


[.  ( 


so 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


were  as  skilful  in  the  use  of  the  paddle  on  the 
river  as  in  that  of  the  rifle  on  the  land.  Among 
them  was  the  gigantic  form  of  Mike  Smith,  be- 
fore mentioned  in  this  narrative  ;  all  these  were 
engaged  by  the  Colonel,  at  a  liberal  salary,  for 
six  months,  which  was  to  be  proportionately 
increased  if  they  were  detained  in  his  service 
for  a  longer  period.  It  was  also  settled  that 
Monsieur  Gustave  Perrot  should  take  his  pas- 
sage in  the  canoe ;  and  to  his  care  were  en- 
trusted the  Indian  presents,  clothes,  and  other 
articles,  which  were  his  master's  own  property. 
Reginald  had  resolved  to  cross  the  Territory  on 
horseback,  accompanied  by  Baptiste,  and  he 
therefore  meant  to  carry  with  liim  only  such 
arms,  and  other  articles,  as  were  likely  to  be 
required  on  the  journey. 

The  orders  given  to  Bearskin  were  to  make 
the  best  of  his  way,  to  St.  Louis,  and  having 
delivered  the  letters  with  which  he  was  en- 
trusted, there  to  await  Reginald's  arrival.  The 
cargo  of  the  canoe  consisted  chiefly  (with  the 
exception  of  a  full  supply  of  arms  and  provi- 
sions) of  powder,  cutlery,  clothes  of  various 
colours,  paints,  mirrors,  and  a  great  variety  of 
beads.  Her  equipment  was  soon  completed, 
and  she  left  Marietta  amid  the  cheers  of  the 
crowd  assembled  on  the  wooden  pier  in  front  of 
David  Muir's  store,  the  latter  observing  to  our 
old  friend  the  mate,  who  stood  at  his  elbow, 
"  I'm  thinking,  Maister  Gregson,  they  chaps 
will  hae  eneugh  o'  the  red-skin  dcevils,  an'  fur- 
huntin'  amongst  a  wheen  wild  trappers  and  daft 
neer-do-weels  ayont  the  Mississippi !  Weel  a 
weel,  ye  maun  just  step  ben  and  tak'  a  stoup  o' 
cognac  to  the  success  o'  Bearskin  and  his  crew." 

Although  there  was  much  in  the  merchant's 
harangue  that  was  like  Greek  or  Hebrew  to  the 
mate,  the  closing  invitation  being  adapted  as 
well  to  bis  comprehension  as  to  his  inclination, 
he  expressed  a  brief  but  cheerful  acquiescence, 
and  the  worthy  couple  entered  the  house  to- 
gether. As  soon  as  they  were  seated  in  the 
parlour,  Jessie  placed  on  the  table  some  excel- 
lent corn-cakes  and  cheese,  together  with  the 
before-mentioned  cognac,  and  busied  herself 
with  even  more  than  her  wonted  alacrity,  to 
offer  these  good  things  to  the  father  of  the 
youth  towards  whom  she  entertained,  as  we 
have  said,  a  secret  but  very  decided  partiali- 
ty. She  carried  her  hospitality  so  far  as  to 
bring  a  bottle  of  old  madeira  fVoni  David's  fa- 
vourite corner  in  the  cellar,  which  she  decanted 
with  great  dexterity,  and  placed  l)efore  the  mate. 
The  jolly  tar  com|dlmented  the  merchant,  after 
bis  own  blunt  fashion,  both  on  the  excellence 
of  his  liquor,  and  the  attractions  of  his  daugh- 
ter, saying,  in  reference  to  the  latter,  "  I  can 
tell  you,  Master  Muir,  that  I  hold  Jessie  to  be 
as  handsome  and  as  handy  a  lass  as  any  in  the 
territory.  If  I  were  twenty  years  younger,  I 
should  be  very  apt  to  clap  on  all  sail,  and  try  to 
make  a  prize  of  her !" 

At  this  moment  his  son  entered  from  the 
store,  under  the  pretext  of  speaking  to  David 
about  the  sale  of  some  goods,  but  with  the  ob- 
ject of  being  for  a  few  minutes  near  to  Jessie. 
He  had  never  spoken  to  her  of  love,  being 
afraid  that  his  suit  would  certainly  be  rejected 
by  her  parents,  who,  from  their  reputed  wealth, 
would  doubtless  expect  to  marry  their  daugh- 
ter to  one  of  the  principal  personages  in  the 


commonwealth  of  Marietta.  As  he  enterrd, 
his  eyes  encountered  those  of  Jessie,  who  was- 
still  blushing  from  the  effect  of  the  compliment 
paid  to  her  by  his  father.     . 

"Harry,  my  boy,"  shouted  the  mate,  "yoii 
are  just  come  in  time  ;  I  have  filled  a  glass  of 
David's  prime  84,  and  you  must  give  me  a  toast ! 
Now,  my  lad,  speak  up  ;  heave  ahead  !" 

*'  Father,  I  am  ashamed  of  you  !"  replied  tho 
youth,  colouring.  "  How  can  you  ask  for  ano- 
ther toast  when  Miss  Jessie's  standing  at  your 
elbow  1" 

"  The  boy's  right,"  said  the  sailor,  "  and  he 
shall  drink  it,  too ;  shan't  he  David  V 

"  I'm  thinking  y'll  no  need  to  ask  him  twice. 
Jessie,  hand  the  lad  a  glass  !" 

At  her  father's  bidding  she  brought  another 
glass  from  the  cupboard  ;  and  in  giving  it  to 
young  Gregson,  one  or  other  of  them  was  so 
awkward,  that  instead  of  it  he  took  her  hand  in 
his ;  and  although  he  relinquished  It  immedi- 
ately, there  was  a  pressure,  unconscious  per- 
haps, but  so  distinctly  perceptible  to  Jessie, 
that  she  blushed  still  deeper,  and  felt  almost  re- 
lieved by  hearing  her  name  called  from  the 
store  in  the  loudest  key  of  her  mother's  shrill 
voice,  while  it  was  repeated  yet  more  loudly  by 
the  honest  mate,  who  gave  the  toast  as  she  left 
the  room,  "  Here's  Jessie  Muir,— a  long  life  and 
a  liappy  one  to  her!" 

Henry  Gregson  drank  the  madeira,  but  he 
scarcely  knew  whether  it  was  sweet  or  sour, 
for  his  blood  still  danced  with  the  touch  of  Jes- 
sie's hand  ;  and  setting  down  the  glass,  he  re- 
turned abruptly  to  the  store,  whether  in  the 
hope  of  stealing  another  look  at  her,  or  to  en- 
joy his  own  reflections  on  the  last  few  minutes, 
the  reader  may  determine  for  himself 

The  mii'.e  and  the  merchant  continued  their 
silting  until  the  bottle  of  madeira  was  empty, 
ami  the  flask  of  cognlac  was  considerably  di- 
minished;  and.  although  their  conversation  was 
doubtless  highly  interesting,  and  worthy  of  being 
listened  to  with  the  greatest  attention,  yet,  as  it 
did  not  bear  immediately  upon  the  events  of  our 
narrative,  we  will  leave  it  unrecorded,  among 
the  many  other  valuable  treasures  of  a  similar 
kind,  which  are  suffered  day  by  day  to  sink  into 
oblivion. 

M.  Perrot  being  now  fairly  under  way,  and 
having  taken  with  him  all  tlie  articles  required 
by  Reginald  for  his  Indian  expedition,  our  hero 
resolved  no  longer  to  delay  his  own  departure, 
being  about  to  encounter  a  very  tedious  land 
journey  before  he  could  reaon  St.  Louis,  and 
being  also  desirous  of  performing  it  hy  easy 
marches,  in  order  that  Nekimi  might  arrive  at 
the  Osage  hunting-camp  fresh,  and  ready  for 
any  of  those  emergencies  in  which  success 
might  depend  upon  his  strength  and  swiAness. 
Baptiste  was  now  quite  in  his  element ;  and  an 
early  day  being  fixed  for  their  departure,  he  pack- 
ed the  levv  clolhes  and  provisions  which  they 
were  likely  to  require  on  the  journey,  in  two 
capacious  leather  bags,  which  were  to  be  slung 
across  the  rough  jiardy  nag  which  had  accom- 
panied him  on  more  than  one  distant  expedition, 
and  he  was  soon  able  to  announce  to  Reginald 
that  he  was  ready  to  start  at  an  hour's  notice. 

The  parting  of  our  hero  from  his  family  was 
somewhat  trying  to  his  firmness ;  for  poor  Lucy, 
whoso  nerves  were  much  aflfected  by  her  own 


THE   PKAIRIE-BIRD. 


51 


SOffoU's,  Could  not  control  her  grief;  Aunt  IWary 
also  shed  tears,  while,  mingled  with  her  repeat- 
ed blessings  and  excellent  counsel,  she  gave 
hini  several  infallible  recipes  fur  the  cure  of  cuts, 
bruises,  and  the  bite  of  rattle-snakes.  The  Col- 
onel squeezed  his  hand  with  concealed  emotion, 
an<l  bade  him  remember  those  whom  ho  left  be- 
hind, and  not  incur  any  foolish  risk  in  the  pur- 
suit of  amusement,  or  in  the  e»,;itement  of  In- 
dian adventure.  But  it  was  in  parting  with  his 
mother  that  his  feelings  underwent  the  severest 
trial,  for  her  health  had  long  been  gradually  de- 
clining i  and  although  she  evinced  the  resigned 
composure  which  marked  her  gentle  uncomplain- 
ing character,  there  was  a  deep  solemnity  in  her 
farewell  benediction,  arising  from  a  presentiment 
that  they  might  not  meet  again  on  this  side  o( 
the  grave.  It  required  all  the  beauty  of  the 
scenery  througl\  which  he  passed,  and  all  the 
constitutional  buoyancy  of  his  spirits,  to  enable 
Reginald  to  shake  off  the  sadness  which  crept 
over  him,  when  he  caught  from  a  rising  ground 
the  last  glimpse  of  Mooshanne ;  but  the  fresh 
elasticity  of  youth  ere  long  prevailed,  and  '  e  ran 
his  lingers  through  the  glossy  mane  that  hung 
over  Nckimi's  arching  crest,  anticipating  with 
pleasure  the  wild  adventures  by  flood  and  field 
that  they  would  share  together. 

Reginald  wore  the  deer-skin  hunting-suit  that 
we  have  before  described  ;  his  rifle  he  had  sent 
with  the  canoe,  the  bugle  was  slung  across  his 
shoulders,  a  brace  of  horse-pistols  were  in  the 
holsters,  and  a  huntiiig  knife  hanging  at  his  gir- 
dle completed  his  equipment.  The  sturdy  guide 
was  more  heavily  armed  ;  for  besides  his  long 
rifle,  which  he  never  quitted,  a  knife  hung  on 
one  side  of  his  belt,  and  at  the  other  was  slung 
the  huge  axe  which  had  procured  him  the  name 
by  which  he  was  known  among  some  of  the 
tribes  ;  but  in  spite  of  these  accoutrements,  and 
of  the  saddlo-bags  before-mentioned,  his  hardy 
nag  paced  along  with  an  enduring  vigour  that 
would  hardly  have  been  expected  from  one  of 
80  coarse  and  unpromising  an  exterior ;  some- 
times their  way  lay  through  the  vast  prairies 
which  were  still  found  in  the  states  Indiana  and 
Illinois  ;  at  others  among  dense  woods  and  rich 
valleys,  through  which  flowed  the  various  tribu- 
taries that  swell  Ohio's  migluy  stream,  the  guide 
losing  no  opportunity  of  explaining  to  Reginald 
as  they  went,  all  the  sigtis  and  s(!cret  indications 
of  Indian  or  border  woodcraft  that  occurred. 
They  met  with  abundance  of  deer,  and  at  night 
they  made  their  fire  ;  and  having  tinished  their 
venison  supper,  camped  under  the  shelter  of 
some  ancient  oak  or  sycamorii.  ThusRi'ginald's 
hardy  frame  became  on  this  preliminary  journey 
more  inured  to  the  exposure  that  he  would  have 
to  undergo  among  the  Osagcs  and  Delawares 
of  the  Far- west ;  they  fell  in  now  and  then  with 
straggling  bands  of  hunters  and  of  frifndly  In 
dians,  but  with  no  adventures  worthy  of  record  ; 
and  thus,  after  a  steady  march  of  twenty  days, 
they  reached  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  and 
crossed  in  the  ferry  to  St.  Louis. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  Ewapo  (if  EthpUton  from  Onndiiloiipe,  and  the  Conse- 
queacoa  whiuli  ensued  fruin  that  Ex|ieditiuu. 

We  left  Ethelston  on  the  deck  of  the  little 


■sciiooner,  which  was  hearing  him  rapiifly  from 
the  shores  of  Guadaloupe,  under  the  influence  of 
an  easterly  wind,  so  strung  that  all  his  aitentioa 
was  absorbed  in  the  management  of  the  vessel- 
During  the  night  the  gale  increased,  and  blew 
with  unabated  violence  for  forty-eight  hours. 
"  The  Sea-gull,"  for  so  she  was  calleil,  scudded 
lightly  before  it;  and  on  the  third  day  Ethel- 
ston had  made  by  his  lug  upwards  of  live  hun- 
dred miles  of  westerly  course. 

Having  only  two  hands  on  board,  and  the 
weather  being  so  uncommonly  buisierous,  he 
had  been  kept  in  constant  employment,  and  had 
only  been  able  to  snatch  a  few  brief  intervals  fur 
sleep  and  refreshment;  he  found  Jacques  the 
coxswain  an  active  able  seaman,  but  extremely- 
silent  and  reserved,  obeying  exactly  the  orders 
he  received,  but  scarcely  uttering  a  word  even  to 
Cupid;  it  was  he  alone  who  attended  upon  the 
invalid  and  the  nurse  in  the  alter  cabin ;  and  'he 
weather  having  now  iioderated,  Ethelston  asked 
how  the  youth  had  borne  the  pitching  and  to.ss- 
ing  of  the  vessel  during  the  late  gale.  Jacques 
replied,  that  he  was  not  worse,  and  seemed  nut 
to  sufler  from  the  sea.  The  captain  was  satis- 
fied, and  retired  to  his  cabin;  he  had  not  been 
there  long,  before  Cupid  entered;  and  carefully 
shutting  the  door  behind  him,  stood  before  hii 
master  with  a  peculiar  expression  of  counte- 
nance, which  the  latter  well  knew  to  intimate 
some  unexpected  intelligence. 

"Well,  Cupid,  what  is  itl"  said  Ethelston, "  is 
there  a  suspicious  sail  in  sight  1" 

"Very  suspicious,  Massa  Ethelston,"  replied 
the  Black,  grinning  and  lowering  his  voice  to  a 
whisper,  "  and  suspicious  goods  aboard  the 
schooner." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Cupid  1" 

"  There  is  tiume  trick  aboard.  I  not  like  that 
Jacques  that  never  speak,  and  I  not  like  that 
sick  boy  and  his  nurse,  that  nobody  never  see." 

"  Bui  why  should  you  be  angry^  Cupid,  with 
the  poor  boy  because  he  is  sick  1  I  have  prom- 
ised to  deliver  him  safe  to  his  friends  at  New 
Orleans,  and  I  hope  soon,  with  this  breeze,  to 
perform  my  promise." 

"  Massa  Ethelston,  I  believe  it  all  one  dama 
trick — I  not  believe  there  is  one  sick  boy ;  when 
Jacques  come  in  and  go  out  of  that  cabin  he 
creep,  and  look,  and  listen,  and  watch  like  the 
Colonel's  grey  cat  at  the  cheese  cupboard;  Cu- 
pid no  pretend  lo  much  learnin',  but  he  no  be 
made  fool  of  by  damn  French  nigger,  and  he  no 
tell  Massa  Ethelston  a  lie."  So  saying,  the 
African  withdrew  as  quietly  as  he  had  entered. 

Afier  musing  .some  time  on  his  follower's  com- 
munication and  suspicions,  he  resolved  to  un- 
ravel whatever  mystery  might  be  attached  to  the 
matter,  by  visiting  the  invalid  immediately.  Qa 
his  knocking  gently  at  the  door  for  admissioii  ^ 
he  was  answered  from  within  by  the  nurse  i\,g^i 
her  patient  was  asleep,  and  ought  not  bow  jo  be 
disturbed;  but  being  determined  not  tw  allow 
auother  day  to  pass  in  uncertainty,  he  xreM  on 
deck,  and  summoning  Jacques,  told  hina  lo  ga 
down  presently  and  inform  the  nur^g  thjt  in  the 
evening,  as  soon  as  her  patient  was  awake,  he 
should  pay  him  a  visit. 

Jacques  received  this  mnm'ate  with  .wnie  con- 
fusion, and  begin  to  stamraer  something  about 
the  "poor  hoy  not  being  disturbed." 

"  Harkee,  sir,"  said  Ethelston  sternly;  "I  am 
captain  on  board  this  cral't,  and  will  be  obeyed  ; 
as  you  go  into  ihat  cabin  three  or  four  times  a 
day  to  attend  upon  the  invrjid,  methinks  my 


y 


ff 


52 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


presence  cannot  be  so  dangerous.  I  will  take 
the  risk  upon  myself:  you  near  my  orders,  sir, 
and  they  are  not  to  be  trifled  with  l" 

Jacques  disappeared,  and  Ethelston  remained 
pacing  the  deck.  In  about  hall' an  hour  the  lat- 
ter came  up  to  him,  and  said,  "The  young  gen- 
tleman will  receive  the  captain  at  sundown." 

"  Very  well,"  replied  Ethelston,  and  continued 
to  pace  the  deck,  revolving  in  his  mind  all  the 
strange  events  of  the  last  month,— his  illness,  the 
unfortunate  passion  of  Nina,  and  her  strange  be- 
haviour when  he  bade  her  farewell. 

At  the  appointed  time  he  went  down,  and 
again  knocked  at  the  side  cabin  door  for  admis- 
sion ;  it  was  opened  by  the  nurse,  apparently  a 
young  woman  of  colour,  who  whispered  to  him 
in  French,  "Go  in,  sir,  and  speak  gently  to  him, 
for  he  is  very  delicate."  So  saying  she  left  the 
cabin,  and  closed  the  door  behind  her. 

Ethelston  approached  the  sofa,  on  which  the 
grey  evening  light  permitted  him  to  see  a  slight 
figure,  covered  witn  a  mantle;  and  addressing 
the  invalid  kindly,  he  said,  "  I  fear,  young  sir, 
you  must  have  suffered  much  during  the  gale." 

"No,  I  thank  you,"  was  the  reply,  but  so 
faintly  uttered  as  to  be  scarcely  audible. 

"Can  I  do  anything  to  make  your  stay  on 
board  more  comfortable  V 

"  Yes,"  was  the  whispered  answer. 

"Then  tell  me  what,  or  how ;  as  I  have  prom- 
ised to  do  all  in  my  power  to  make  the  voyage 
agreeable  to  you." 

After  a  pause  of  a  minute,  during  which  the 
invalid  seemed  struggling  with  repressed  emo- 
tion, the  mantle  was  suddenly  thrown  aside,  the 
recumbent  figure  sprang  from  the  sofa,  and  Nina 
stood  before  him!  "Yes,"  she  said,  "you  have 
promised — and  my  ears  drank  in  the  promise — 
for  it,  and  for  yon  I  have  abandoned  home,  coun- 
try, kindred, — what  do  I  say, — I  have  abandoned 
nothing;  for  you  are  to  me  home,  kindred,  coun- 
try, everything!  Dear,  dear  Ethelston !  this  mo- 
ment repays  me  for  all  I  have  suffered."  As  she 
spoke  thus,  she  threw  her  arms  round  his  neck, 
and  hid  her  blushing  face  upon  his  breast. 

Ethelston  was  so  completely  taken  by  sur- 
prLse,  that  for  a  moment  he  could  not  utter  a  syl- 
lable. Mistaking  his  silence  for  a  full  partici- 
pation in  her  own  impassioned  feelings,  and 
looking  up  in  his  face,  her  eyes  beaming  with 
undisguised  affection,  and  her  dark  tresses  fall- 
ing carelessly  over  her  beautiful  neck,  she  con- 
tinued, "  Oh  speak— speak  one  gentle  word,— 
nay,  rather  break  not  this  delicious  silence,  and 
let  me  dream  here  for  ever." 

If  Ethelston  was  for  a  moment  stupified,  partly 
by  surprise  and  partly  by  the  effect  of  her  sur- 
passing loveliness,  it  was  but  for  a  moment. 
His  virtue,  pride,  and  honour  were  aroused,  and 
the  suggestions  of  passion  Ibpnd  no  entrance  to 
his  heart.  Firmly,  but  quietly  replacing  her  on 
(he  sofa  she  had  quitted,  he  said,  in  a  voice  more 
stern  than  he  had  ever  before  used  when  ad- 
dressing her,  "Nina,  you  have  grieved  me  more 
than  I  can  express;  you  have  persisted  in  seek- 
ing a  heart  which  I  frankly  told  yon  was  not 
mine  to  givv?;  I  see  no  longer  in  you  the  Nina 
whom  I  first  knew  in  Guadaloupe,  gentle,  affec- 
tionate, and  docile— but  a  wild,  headstrong  girl, 
pursuing  a  wayward  fancy,  regardless  of  truth, 
and  of  that  maidenly  reserve,  which  is  wom- 
an's sweetest  charm.  Not  only  have  you  thus 
hurt  my  feelings,  but  you  have  brought  a  stain 
upon  ray  honour,— nay,  interrupt  me  not,"  he 
added,  seeing  that  she  was  about  to  speak ;  "  for  I 


I  must  tell  yon  the  truth,  and  you  must  leam  to 
bear  it,  even  though  it  may  sound  harsh  to  your 
ears.  I  repeat,  you  have  brought  a  stain  upon 
my  honour, — for  what  will  youi"  respected  father 
think  of  the  man  whom  he  received  wounded,  suf- 
fering, and  a  prisoner  1  whom  he  cherished  with 
hospitable  kindness,  and  who  now  requites  all  his 
benefits  by  stealing  from  his  roof  the  daughter  of 
his  love,  the  ornament  and  blessing  of  his  homel 
Nin-1, 1  did  not  think  that  you  wot  A  bring  this 
disgrace  and  humiliation  upon  my  name!  I 
have  now  a  sacred  and  a  painful  duty  before 
me,  and  1  will  see  you  no  more  until  I  ha'  :  :;- 
stored  you  to  the  arms  of  an  offended  father.  I 
hope  he  will  forgive  you,  as  I  do,  for  the  wrong 
that  you  have  done  to  both  of  us.  Farewell, 
Nina."  With  these  words,  spoken  in  a  voice 
trembling  with  contending  emotions,  he  turned 
and  left  tlie  cabin. 

Reader,  have  you  ever  dwelt  in  Sicily,  or  in 
any  other  southern  island  of'volcanic  Ibrma- 
tion  1  If  so,  you  may  have  seen  a  verdant  spot 
ner.r  the  base  of  the  mountain,  where  the  flowers 
and  the  herbage  were  smiling  in  the  fresh  beau- 
ty of  summer,  where  the  luxuriant  vine  mingled 
her  tendrils  with  the  spreading  branches  of  the 
elm,  where  the  air  was  loaded  with  fragrance, 
and  the  ear  was  refreshed  by  the  hum  of  bees 
and  the  murmur  of  a  rippling  stream, — on  asiid- 
den,  the  slumbering  mountain-furnace  is  aroused 
—  the  sulphurous  cratei  pours  ♦brih  its  fiery  del- 
uge,  and  in  a  moment  the  spot  so  lately  teeming 
with  life,  fertility,  and  fragrance,  is  becoiT«e  the 
arid,  barren  abode  of  desolation.  .  If,  reader,  you 
have  seen  this  fearful  change  on  the  face  of'iia- 
tare,  or  if  you  can  place  it  vividly  before  your 
imagination,  then  may  you  conceive  the  state 
of  Nina's  mind,  when  her  long-cherished  love 
was  thus  abruptly  and  finally  rejected  by  thb 
man  for  whom  she  had  sacrificed  her  home,  her 
parents,  and  her  pride  I  It  is  impossible  for  lan- 
guage to  portray  an  agony  such  as  that  by  which 
all  the  faculties  of  her  sonl  and  body  seemed 
absorbed  and  benumbed ;  she  neither  spoke,  nor 
wept,  nor  gave  any  outward  sign  «f  suffering, 
but  with  bloodless  and  silent  lips,  sat  gazing  on 
vacancy. 

Fanchette  returned,  and  looked  on  her  young 
mistress  with  fear  and  dread.  She  could  neither 
elicit  a  word  in  reply,  nor  the  slightest  indica- 
tion of  her  repeated  entreaties  being  understood. 
Nina  suffered  her  hands  to  be  chafed,  her  tem- 
ples to  be  bathed,  and  at  length  broke  into  a  loud 
hysteric  laugh,  that  rarg  through  the  adjoining 
cabin,  and  sent  a  thrill  to  the  heart  of  Ethelston. 
Springing  on  deck,  he  ordered  Jacques  to  go  be- 
low, and  aid  Fanchette  in  attending  on  her 
young  lady,  and  then,  with  folded  arms,  he  lean- 
ed over  the  low  bulwark,  and  sal  meditating  in 
deep  silence  on  the  evants  of  the  day. 

The  moon  had  risen,  and  her  beams  silvered 
the  waves  through  which  the  schooner  was  cut- 
ling  her  way;  scarcely  a  fleeting  cloud  obscured 
the  hrightne.s5  of  the  sky,  and  all  nature  seemed 
hushed  in  the  calm  and  peaceful  repose  of  night. 
How  different  from  the  fearful  storm  now  raging 
in  the  bosom  of  the  young  girl  from  whom  h« 
was  divided  only  by  a  few  inches  of  plank  I  He 
shuddered  when  that  thought  arose,  out  his  con- 
.science  told  him  that  he  was  acting  aright,  and, 
indulging  in  the  reverie  that  possessed  him,  he 
saw  a  distant  figure  in  the  glimmering  moonlight, 
which,  as  it  drew  near,  grew  more  and  more  dis- 
tinct, till  it  wore  the  form,  the  features,  and  the 
approving  smile  of  bis  Lucy  i    Confirmed  and 


•  /<*      -Ji4U 


nust  leam  to 
larsh  to  your 
a  stain  upon 
ipected  talher 
vcunded.suf- 
lerished  with 
equitesallhis 
e  daughter  of 
of  his  home  1 
id  bring  this 
(ly  name!  I 
I  duty  before 
iiil  I  ha'  ;  :9- 
led  father.  I 
lor  the  wrong 
s.  Farewell, 
m  in  a  voice 
ns,  be  turned 

Sicily,  or  in 
canic  ibrma- 
i  verdant  spot 
re  the  flowers 
le  fresh  beau- 
vine  mingled 
anches  of  the 
ith  fragrance, 

htini  of  bees 
m, — on  a  sud- 
ace  is  aroused 
h  its  fiery  del- 
lately  teeming 
is  become  the 
If,  reader,  you 
he  face  of  <ia- 
y  before  your 
eive  the  stale 
iherished  lore 
jected  by  the 
her  home,  her 
>ssible  for  lan- 

thai  by  which 

body  seemed 
her  spoke,  nor 
I  sf  suffering, 

sat  gazing  on 

on  her  young 
!  could  neither 
ightest  indica- 
ig  understood, 
afed,  her  tem- 
)ke  into  a  loud 
the  adjoining 
t  of  Ethelstoo. 
qucs  to  go  be- 
nding on  her 
arms,  he  lean- 
meditating  in 
lay. 

leams  silvered 
loner  was  cut- 
:loud  obscured 
nature  seemed 
epose  of  night, 
'm  now  raging 
jrom  whom  he 
of  plank  1  He 
le,  out  his  con- 
■\g  aright,  and, 
sessed  him,  he 
ing  moonlight, 
:  and  more  dis- 
itures,  and  the 
:;onfinaed  and 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


6» 


t 


! 


strengthened  in  his  resolutions,  he  started  from 
his  seat,  and  bade  the  astonished  Cupid,  who 
was  now  at  the  helm,  to  prepare  to  go  about, 
and  stand  to  the  eastward ;  Jacques  was  called 
from  below,  the  order  was  repeated  in  a  sterner 
voice,  the  sails  were  trimmed,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes the  schooner  was  close  hauled  and  laying 
her  course,  as  near  as  the  wind  would  permit, 
for  Guadaloupe. 

While  these  events  were  passing  on  board  the 
Seagull,  Captain  L'Estrange  had  returned  in  the 
frigate  to  Point  &  Pitre.  His  grief  and  anger 
may  be  better  imagined  than  described  when  he 
learned  the  flight  of  his  daughter  and  of  his  pris- 
oner, together  with  the  loss  of  his  yacht  and  two 
of  his  slaves. 

Concluding.that  the  fugitives  would  make  for 
New  Orleans,  he  dispatched  the  Hirondelle  im- 
mediately in  pursuit,  with  orders  to  discover 
them  if  possible,  and  to  bring  them  back  by 
stratagem  or  force.  He  also  wrote  to  Colonel 
Brandon,  painting  in  the  blackest  colours  the 
treachery  and  ingratitude  of  Ethelstop,  and  call- 
ing upon  him,  as  a  man  of  honour,  to  disown 
and  punish  the  perpetrator  of  such  an  outrage  on 
the  laws  of  hospitality. 

Meanwhile  the  latter  was  straining  every  nerve 
to  reach  again  the  island  from  which  he  had  so 
lately  escaped.  In  this  object  he  was  hindered, 
not  only  by  baffling  winds,  but  by  the  obstinacy 
of  Jacques,  who,  justly  fearing  the  wrath  of  his 
late  master,  practised  every  manoeuvre  to  frus- 
trate Ethelston's  de.nign.  But  the  latter  was  on 
his  guard;  and  unless  he  was  himself  on  deck, 
never  trusted  the  helm  in  the  coxswain's  hands. 

He  learned  from  Fanchette,  that  Nina  was  in 
a  high  fever  and  quite  delirious;  but  though  he 
inquired  constantiv  aller  her,  and  ordered  every 
attention  to  be  paid  to  her  that  was  within  his 
power,  he  adhered  firmly  to  the  resolution  that 
ne  had  formed  of  never  entering  her  cabin. 

After  a  few  days'  salhng  to  the  eastward,  when 
Eihelston  calculated  that  he  should  not  now  be 
at  a  great  distance  from  Guadaloupe,  he  fell  in 
with  a  vessel,  which  proved  to  be  the  Hirondelle. 
The  Seagull  was  immediately  recognised ;  and 
the  weather  being  fair,  the  lieutenant  and  eight 
men  came  on  board.  The  French  officer  was 
no  sooner  on  the  deck,  than  he  ordered  his  men 
to  seize  and  secure  Ethelston,  and  to  place  the 
two  blacks  in  irons. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Ethelston  indignantly  re- 
monstrated against  such  harsh  ai.'d  undeserved 
treatment.  The  officer  would  listen  to  no  expla- 
nation; and  without  deigning  a  reply,  ordered 
his  men  to  carry  their  prisoners  on  board  the 
Hirondelle. 

On  reaching  Point  k  Pitre,  they  were  all  placed 
in  separate  places  of  confinement;  and  Nina  was, 
not  without  much  risk  and  difficultv,  conveyed 
to  her  former  apartment  in  her  father's  house. 
The  delirium  of  fever  seemed  to  have  perma- 
nently affected  the  poor  girl's  brain.  She  sang 
wild  snatches  of  songs,  and  told  those  about  her 
that  her  lover  was  often  with  her,  but  that  he  was 
invisible.  Sometimes  she  fancied  herself  on 
board  a  ship,  and  asked  them  which  way  the 
wind  blew,  and  whether  they  were  near  the 
shore.  Then  she  would  ask  "for  a  guitar,  and 
tell  them  that  she  was  a  mermaid,  and  would 
sing  them  songs  that  the  fishes  loved  to  hear. 

The  distracted  father  often  sat  and  listened  to 
these  incwhcient  ravings,  until  he  left  the  room 
in  an  agony  not  to  be  described ;  and  when  alone, 
vented  the  most  fearful  imprecations  on  the  sup- 


posed  treachery  and  ingratitude  of  Ethelstom 
He  could  not  bring  him.self  to  see  the  latter;  for, 
said  he,  "  I  must  kill  him,  if  1  set  eyes  on  his 
hateful  person :"  but  he  one  day  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing lines,  which  be  desired  to  be  delivered  to 
his  prisoner : 

''A  PATHEn,  whose  indignation  is  yet  greater 
than  his  agony,  desires  to  know  what  plea  you 
can  urge  in  extenuation  of  the  odious  crimes 
laid  f>  your  charge: — the  deliberate  theft  of  his 
slaves  ;ind  yacht,  and  the  abduction  and  ruin  of 
his  child,  in  recompense  for  misplaced  trust, 
kindness,  and  hospitality  1" 

Poor  Ethelston,  in  the  gloomy  solitude  of  the 
narrow  chamber  where  he  was  confined,  read 
and  re-read  the  above  lines  many  times  before 
he  would  trust  himself  to  reply  to  them.  He  felt 
for  the  misery  of  L'Estrange,  and  he  was  too 
proud  and  too  generous  to  exculpate  himself  by 
the  narration  of  Nina's  conduct;  nay,  although 
he  knew  that  by  desiring  L'Estrange  to  exam- 
ine separately  Fanchette  and  Jacques,  his  owa 
innocence,  and  the  deceit  practised  upon  him, 
would  be  brought  to  light,  he  could  not  bring 
himself  to  forget  that  delicacy  which  Nina  bad 
herself  forgotten ;  nor  add,  to  clear  himself,  one 
mite  to  the  heavy  weight  of  visitation  that  had 
already  fallen  upon  her.  He  contented  himself 
with  sending  the  following  answer: 

"Sir, 
"  Your  words,  though  harsh,  would  be  more 
than  merited  by  the  crimes  of  which  you  believe 
me  guilty.  There  is  a  Being  above,  who  reads 
the  heart,  and  will  judge  the  conduct  of  us  all. 
If  I  am  guilty  of  the  crimes  imputed  to  me,  His 
vengeance  will  inflict  on  me,  through  the  stings 
of  conscience,  punishment  more  terrible  even 
than  the  wrath  of  a  justly-offended  father  could 
desire  for  the  destroyer  of  his  ci.ild.  If  I  am  not 
guilty,  He,  in  His  own  good  lime,  will  make  it 
known,  and  will  add  to  your  other  heavy-  sor- 
rows, regret  for  having  unjustly  charged  with 
such  base  ingratitude, 

"  Your  servant  and  prisoner, 

"  E.  Ethelston."    ■ 

On  receiving  the  above  letter,  which  seemed 
dictated  by  a  calm  consciousness  of  rectitude, 
L'Estrange's  belief  of  his  prisoner's  guilt  was  for. 
a  moment  staggered ;  and  had  be  bethought  him- 
self of  cross-examining  the  other  partners  in  the 
escape,  he  would  doubtless  have  arrived  at  the 
truth ;  but  his  feelings  were  too  violently  excited 
to  permit  the  exercise  of  his  reason ;  and  tearing 
the  note  to  pieces,  he  stamped  upon  it,  exclaim- 
ing. In  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  "  Dissembling  hypo- 
crite !  does  he  think  to  cozen  me  with  words,  as 
he  has  poisoned  poor  Nina's  peace  1" 

Pier  aisorder  now  a.ssumed  a  different  charac-^ 
ter.  The  excitement  of  delirium  ceased,  and  wa» 
succeeded  by  a  feebleness  and  gradual  wasting, 
which  baffled  all  the  resources  of  medicine:  and 
such  was  the  apathy  and  stupor  that  clouded 
her  faculties,  that  even  her  father  could  scarcely 
tell  whether  she  knew  him  or  not.  In  this  stale 
she  continued  for  several  days;  and  the  physi- 
cian at  length  informed  L'Estrange  that  he  must 
prepare  himself  for  the  worst,  and  that  all  hope 
of  recovery  was  gone. 

Madame  L'Estrange  had,  under  the  pressure 
of  anxiety,  forgotten  her  habitual  li.sllessnes."!, 
and  watched  by  her  daughter's  couch  with  a 
mother's  unwearied  solicitude;  on  the  night  suc« 
ceeding  the  r.oove  sad  announcement,  Nina  sunk 
into  a  quiet  sleep,  which  gave  some  hope  to  her 


!'., 


54 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


■anguine  parents,  and  induced  them  also  to  per- 
mit iliemselves  a  few  linurs'  repose. 

In  ilie  morning  she  awulie;  nereye  no  longer 
dwell  on  vacancy;  a  slight  (lush  was  visible  on 
her  transparent  cheek,  and  she  called  her  father, 
in  a  voice  leeble,  indeed,  but  clear  and  distinct. 
Who  shal'  jiaint  the  rapture  with  which  he  hailed 
•he  returning  dawn  ol  reason  and  of  hope  t  But 
his  joy  was  of  brief  duration  ;  for  Nina,  beck- 
oning him  to  approach  yet  nearer,  said,  "  God 
be  Ihlinked  that  i  may  yet  beg  your  blessing  and 
forgiveness,  dearest  lather!"  Then,  pre.ssing 
her  wasted  hand  upon  her  brow,  she  continued, 
after  a  short  pause,  "  Yes,  I  remember  it  all 
now — all;  the  orange-grove — the  flight — the  ship 
—the  last  meeting !  Oh  I  tell  me,  where  is  he  1 
tyhere  is  Ethelston  !" 

"  He  is  sale  confined,"  answered  L'Estrange, 
scarcely  repressing  his  rage ;  "  he  shall  not 
escape  punishment.  The  villain  shall  yet  know 
the  weight  of  an  injured  father's — "  Ere  he 
could  conclude  the  sentence,  Nina,  by  a  sudden 
exertion,  half  rose  in  her  bed,  and,  grasping  his 
arm  convulsively,  said,  "  Father,  curse  him  not 
— you  know  not  what  you  say ;  it  i«  on  me,  on 
me  alone,  that  all  your  anger  should  fall ;  listen, 
and  speak  not,  for  my  hours  are  numbered,  and 
my  strength  nearly  spent."  She  then  proceeded 
to  tell  him,  in  a  faint  but  distinct  voice,  all  the 
particulars  already  known  to  the  reader,  keep- 
ing back  nothing  in  her  own  defence,  and  con- 
fessing how  Ethelston  had  been  deceived,  and 
how  she  had  madly  persisted  in  her  ep-'eavours 
to  win  his  love,  after  he  had  explicitly  owned  to 
her  that  his  heart  and  hand  were  promised  to 
another. 

"  1  solemnly  assure  you,"  she  said,  in  conclu- 
sion, "  that  he  never  spoke  to  me  of  love,  that  he 
warned  me  as  a  brother,  and  reproved  me  as  a 
father;  but  I  would  not  be  counselled.  His  im- 
age filled  my  thoughts,  my  senses,  my  whole 
soul — it  fills  them  yet ;  and  if  you  wish  your 
poor  Nina  to  die  in  peace,  let  her  see  you  em- 
orace  him  as  a  friena  and  son,"  So  saying  she 
sank  exhausted  on  her  pillow. 

L'Estrange  could  scarcely  master  the  agita- 
tion excited  by  this  narration.  After  a  short 
pause  he  replied,  "  My  poor  child !  I  fear  you 
dream  again.  I  wrote  only|  a  few  days  ago  to 
Ethelston,  chafing  him  with  his  villany.  and 
asking  what  be  could  say  in  his  defence  1  His 
reply  was  nothing  but  a  canting  subterfuge."  • 

"  What  was  it  7"  inquired  Nina,  faintly. 

L'Estrange  repeated  the  words  ofthe  note.  As 
he  did  so,  a  sweet  smile  stole  over  her  counte- 
nance, and,  clasping  aer  hands  together,  she  ex- 
claimed, "  Like  himself— noble,  generous  Ethel- 
ston! Father,  yon  are  blind;  he  would  not 
exculpate  himself,  by  proclaiming  your  dauffh- 
ler's  shame !  If  you  doubt  me,  question  Fan- 
chette— Jacques^— who  know  it  all  too  well ;  but 
you  will  not  doubt  me,  dear,  dear  father!  By 
that  Being  to  whose  presence  I  am  last  hasten- 
ing, I  tell  you  only  the  truth ;  by  His  name  I 
conjure  you  to  comfort  my  last  moments,  by 
granting  my  last  request !" 

L'Estrange  averted  his  face,  and  rising  almost 
immediately,  desir«?d  an  attendant  to  summon 
Ethelston  withov  t  delay. 

A  long  pause  onsued;  Nina's  lips  moved  as 
if  in  silent  prayer ;  and  her  father,  covering  his 
fare  with  his  hands,  struggled  to  control  the  an- 
gni.«h  by  which  his  firmness  was  all  but  over- 
poweied.  At  length  Etholstori  entered  the  room ; 
ae  had  been  informed  that  Nina  was  very  ill,  but 


was  by  no  means  aware  of  the  extremity  of  her 
danger.  Naturally  indignant  at  the  treatment 
he  had  lately  received,  knowing  it  to  be  unde- 
served, and  ignorant  ofthe  purpose  for  which  he 
was  now  called,  his  manner  was  cold  and  some* 
what  haughty,  as  he  inquired  the  commands 
which  Captain  L'Estrange  might  have  fur  his 
prisoner. 

The  agoni/ed  father  sougiit  in  vain  for  utter- 
ance; his  only  reply  was  to  point  to  the  almost 
lileless  form  of  his  child. 

One  glance  from  the  bed  to  the  countenance 
of  L'Estrange  was  sutficient  to  explain  all  to 
Ethelston,  who  sprang  forward,  aiid,  wringing 
the  old  captain's  hanii,  faltered,  in  a  voice  of 
deep  emotion,  "  Oh !  forgive  me  for  so  speaking: 
I  knew  nothing — nothing  of  this  dreadful  scene  I'' 
Then,  turning  from  him,  he  fixed  his  eyes  upon 
Nina,  while  the  convulsive  working  ol  his  fea- 
tures showed  that  his  habitual  self-coinirand 
was  scarcely  equal  ^o  support  the  presen;  unex- 
pected trial. 

The  deadly  paleness  of  her  brow  contrasted 
with  the  disordered  tres»es  of  her  dark  hair — the 
long  eyelashes,  reposing  upon  the  trans  <arenC 
cheek,  which  v/ore  a  momentary  hectic  jj  ow — 
the  colourless  lip,  and  the  thin,  wan  fii.j^rs, 
crossed  meekly  upon  her  breast— all  gave  to  her 
form  and  features  an  air  of  such  unearthly  beauty, 
that  Ethelston  almost  doubted  whether  the  spirit 
still  lingered  in  its  lovely  mansion;  hut  his 
doubts  were  soon  resolved,  for,  having  finished 
the  unnttered  but  fervent  prayer  which  she  had 
been  addressing  to  the  Throne  of  Grace,  she 
again  unclosed  her  eyes,  and  when  they  rested 
upon  his  countenance,  a  sweet  smile  played 
round  her  lip,  and  a  warmer  flush  came  over  her 
cheek.  Extending  her  hand  to  him,  she  said, 
"  Can  you  forgive  me  for  all  the  wrong  I  have 
done  you  ?" 

In  reply,  he  pressed  her  fingers  to  his  lips,  for 
he  could  not  speak.  She  continued :  "  I  know 
that  I  grievously  wronged  my  parents ;  but  the 
wrong  which  I  did  to  }'oa  was  yet  more  cruel. 
God  be  thanked  for  giving  me  this  brief  but  pre- 
cious hour  for  atonement.  You  more  than  once 
called  me  your  sister  and  your  friend!  be  a 
brother  to  me  now.  And  you,  dearest  father,  if 
your  love  outweighs  my  fault,— if  you  wish  your 
child  to  die  happy,  embrace  him  for  my  sake, 
and  repair  the  injustice  that  you  have  done  to 
his  generous  nature !" 

The  two  men  loo'iced  at  each  other;  their 
hearts  were  melted,  and  their  cordial  embrace 
brought  a  ray  of  gladness  to  Nina's  eyes.  "  God 
be  thanked!"  she  murmured  faintly.  "Let  my 
mother  now  come,  that  I  may  receive  her  bless- 
ing too," 

While  L'Estrange  went  to  summon  his  wife 
to  a  scene  which  the  weakness  of  her  mind  and 
nerves  rendered  her  unenual  to  support,  Nina 
continued :  "  Dear,  deer  Ethelston,  let  me  hear 
your  voice ;  the  madness,  the  passion,  the  jeal- 
ous);, that  filled  my  bosom  are  all  past,  out  the 
love  is  there,  imperishable ;  tell  mc,  my  friend, 
counsellor,  brother,  that  you  are  not  angry  with 
me  for  saying  so  now." 

Again  the  wasted  fingers  were  preased  to  his 
burning  lip;  his  tongue  could  not  yet  find  utter- 
ance, but  a  tear  which  fell  upon  them  told  to  the 
sufferer  that  there  was  no  indiflbrence  in  that 
silence. 

Captain  L'Estranp;e  now  entered,  accompa- 
nied by  his  wife.  Although  a  weak  and  fool- 
ish  woman,  her  heart  was  not  dead  to  those  nat- 


i 


THE  PRAlRlE-BIRi). 


55 


oral  affections  of  a  mother  which  the  present 
scene  might  be  expected  to  call  forth;  .she  wept 
long  and  viulenil^  over  her  dying  child,  and 
perhaps  her  grief  might  be  embittered  by  a 
■whisper  of  conscience  that  her  sufferings  were 
more  or  less  aitribiita'ble  to  neglected  education. 
Fearing  that  Iter  mother's  excessive  agitation 
might  exhaust  Nina's  scanty  store  of  remain- 
ing strength,  Eihelston  suggested  to  Captain 
L'li^strange  to  withdraw  her  into  the  adjoining 
apartment;  and,  approaching  the  sufferer,  he 
whispered  a  few  words  in  her  ear.  A  swtet 
smile  played  upon  her  countenance  as  she  an- 
swered, "  Yes,  and  without  d'"'u>." 

Following  her  retiring  parents  from  the  room, 
he  motioned  to  the  priest,  who  was  waiting  at 
the  door,  to  enter;  and  the  sad  party  remained 
together  whilethe  confessor  performed  th?  rites 
of  his  sacred  ofHce.  Madame  L'Estrange  was 
so  overpowered  by  her  grief,  that  she  was  re- 
moved, almost  insensible,  to  her  own  cpartraent, 
-while,  upon  a  signal  from  the  holy  man,  Eihel- 
ston and  the  father  re-entered  that  of  Nina. 

Addressing  the  latier,  she  said  in  a  taint  voice, 
"  Dearest  lather,  I  have  made  my  peace  with 
Heaven ;  let  me  add  one  more  prayer  to  you  for 
peace  and  forgiveness  on  earth." 

"Speak  it,  my  child;  it  is  already  granted," 
said  the  soAened  veteran. 

"  Pardon,  for  my  sake,  Fanchette  and  Jacques : 
they  have  committed  a  great  offence;  but  it  was 
1  who  urged  them  to  it." 

"  It  is  forgiven :  and  they  shall  not  be  punish- 
«d,"  replied  L'Estrange:  while  Ethelslon,  deep- 
ly touched  by  this  amiable  remembrance  of  the 
offending  slaves  at  such  a  moment,  whispered 
to  her  in  a  low  voice, 

"  blessed  are  the  peace-makers;  for  they  shall 
be  called  the  children  of  God  !" 

A  grateful  pressure  of  the  hand  which  he  had 
placed  in  hers,  was  the  only  reply,  as  she  con- 
tinued, addressing  L'Estrange,  "  And  let  them 
marry,  father,  I  know  they  love  each  other ;  and 
those  who  love  should  marry."  Here  her  voice 
became  feebler  and  feebler,  as,  once  more  open- 
ing her  dark  eyes,  which  shone  with  preternat- 
ural lustre  upon  Ethelston,  she  added,  "You, 
too,  will  marry;  but  none  will  ever  love  you 
like  your  . .  .  sister !— closer— closer  yet !  let  me 
feel  your  breath.  Father,  join  your  hand  to  his 
—so  I    This  death  is  -  -  Par  -  -  -" 

The  closing  word  died  upon  her  lips;  but  the 
angelic  smile  that  lingered  there  seemed  to  em- 
anate from  that  Paradise  which  their  last  mo- 
ments strove  in  vain  to  name.  Her  earthly  sor- 
rows vere  at  rest,  and  the  bereaved  father  fell 
exhausted  into  Ethe'ston'e  arms. 


'  .^lli't'-Ta«\ 


CHAPTER  XVIL 


Excanioa  on  the  Prairie. -^The  Party  fall  in  with  a  ret- 
eran  Hunter.  m 

We  must  now  return  to  Reginald  and  his' 
trusty  follower.  Baptiste,  whom  we  left  at  St. 
Louis,  where  tney  were  busily  employed  in  dis- 
posing of  Colonel  Brandon's  share  of  the  pel- 
tries brought  in  by  the  trapping  party,  which  he 
had  partly  furnished  the  preceding  year.  They 
did  not  find  much  difficulty  in  effectinj  an  aa- 
vant.ngeoDS  sale  to  two  of  the  other  partners  in 
the  expedition, — active,  enterprising  men,  who, 
from  tncir  connecti  m  with  the  Mackinaw  Fur 
Company,  were  sure  of  reselling  at  considera- 
ble profit. 


As  soon  as  these  affairs  were  settled,  Regi- 
nald, who  had  been  joined  by  Perrot,  Bearskin, 
and  the  remaining  crew  of  the  canoe,  resolved 
to  defer  no  longer  his  proposed  journey  into  the 
Osage  country.  He  left  all  the  arrangements 
to  Baptiste  and  Bearskin,  under  whose  superin- 
tendence the  preparations  advanced  so  rapidly, 
that  at  '.he  end  of  a  week  they  were  satisfactori- 
ly completed. 

It  had  been  determined  to  leave  the  canoe  at 
St.  Louis,  and  to  perform' the  journey  by  land; 
for  this  purpose  a  strong  saddle-horse  was  pur- 
chased lor  each  of  the  party,  together  with  six 
pack-horses,  and  as  many  mules,  for  the  trans- 
fer of  the  ammunition,  baggage,  and  presents 
for  their  Indian  allie«.  Four  additional  Cana- 
dian "  coureurs  des  Bois"  ware  engaged  to  take 
charge  of  the  packs;  so  that  when  they  started 
for  the  Western  Prairies,  the  party  mustered 
twelve  in  number,  whose  rank  and  designation 
were  as  follows : — 

Reginald  Brandon ;  Baptiste,  his  lieutenant  | 
Bearskin,  who.  in  the  absence  of  the  two  former, 
was  to  take  the  command;  M.  Perrot,  Mike 
Smith,  with  three  other  border  hunters,  and  the 
four  Canadians,  completed  the  party. 

Baptiste  had  taken  care  to  place  among  the 
packages  an  abundance  of  mirrors,  cutlery,  and 
other  articles  most  highly  prized  by  the  savages. 
He  had  also  selected  the  horses  with  the  great- 
est care,  and  two  spare  ones  were  tak»n,  in  ca?e 
of  accidents  by  the  way.  When  all  was  ready, 
even  the  taciturn  Bearskin  admitted  that  he  had 
never  seen  a  party  so  well  fitted  out,  in  every 
respect,  for  an  Indian  expedition. 

It  was  a  lovely  mommg  when  they  left  St. 
Louis,  and  entered  apon  the  broad  track  which 
led  through  the  deep  Missourian  forest,  with  oc- 
casional openings  of  prairie,  towards  a  trading 
post  lately  opened  on  the  Osage,  a  river  which 
runs  from  S.W.  to  N.E.  and  falls  into  the  Mis- 
souri. Of  all  the  party,  none  were  in  such  exu- 
berant spirits  as  Perrot,  who,  moonted  on  an 
active,  spirited  little  Mestang  horse,*  capering 
beside  the  bulky  figure  of  Mike  Smith,  address- 
ed to  him  various  pleasantries  in  broken  Eng- 
lish, which  the  other,  if  he  understood  them,  did 
not  deign  to  notice. 

It  was  now  near  the  close  of  May,  and  both 
the  prairie  and  the  woodland  scenery  were  clad 
in  the  beautiful  and  varied  colours  of  early  sum- 
mer; the  grassy  road  along  which  they  wound 
their  easy  way  was  soft  and  elastic  to  the  horses' 
hoofs ;  and  as  they  travelled  farther  from  the  set- 
tlements scattered  near  St.  Louis,  the  frequent 
tracks  of  deer  which  they  observed,  tempted 
Reginald  to  halt  his  party,  and  encamp  for  the 
night,  while  he  and  Baptiste  sallied  forth  to 
provide  for  them  a  venison  supper. 

Afier  a  short  hunting  ramble  they  returned, 
bearing  with  them  the  saddle  of  a  fine  buck.  A 
huge  fire  was  lighted  ;  the  camp-kettles,  and 
other  cooking  utensils  were  in  imt^ediate  re- 
quest, and  the  travellers  sat  down  to  enjoy  their 
first  supper  in  the  Missourian  wilderness. 

Monsieur  Perrot  was  now  quite  in  his  ele- 
ment, and  became  at  once  a  universal  favourite, 
for  never  had  any  of  the  party  tasted  coffee  or 
flour-cakes  so  good,  or  venison  steaks  of  so  deli- 
cate a  flavour.  His  good  humour  was  as  inex- 
haustible as  his  inventive  culinary  talent;  and 
they  were  almost  disposed  to  believe  in    his 

*  Mestang,  a  horse  bred  between  the  wild  and  the  tame 
breeds ;  they  are  sometimes  to  be  met  with  amonff  the  tra- 
ders tu  Saata  F6. 


ii: 


6f 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRU. 


boasting  aMurance,  that  so  long  as  there  was  a 
buffalo-hide,  or  an  old  moccasin  left  among 
them,  they  should  never  want  a  good  raeal. 

Having  supped  and  smoked  a  comfonable 
pipe,  they  proceeded  to  bivouac  for  the  night. 
By  the  advice  of  Baptiste,  Reginald  had  deter- 
mined to  accustom  his  party,  from  the  first,  to 
those  precautionary  habits  which  might  soon 
become  so  essential  to  their  safety ;  a  regular 
rotation  of  sentry  duty  was  eslablislied,  the  hor- 
ses were  carefully  secured,  and  every  man  lay 
down  with  his  knife  in  his  belt,  and  his  loaded 
rifle  at  his  side;  the  packs  were  all  carefully 
piled,  so  as  to  form  a  low  breast^vork,  from  be- 
Kind  which  they  might  fire,  in  case  of  sudden  at- 
tack ;  and  when  these  dispositions  were  comple- 
te 1.  '\ove  who  were  not  on  the  watch  wrapped 
io  elves  in  their  blankets  or  bufiTalo-skins,  and 
Ji:  .heir  feet  towards  the  tire,  slept  as  comfurt- 
{.    ,  us  on  a  bed  of  down. 

J'or  two  days  they  continued  their  m^rch  in  a 
northwest  direction,  meeting  with  no  incident 
worthy  of  record  ;  the  hunters  found  abundance 
of  game  of  every  description,  and  Monsieur  Per- 
rot^  skill  was  daily  exercised  upon  prairie-hens, 
turkeys,  and  deer.  On  the  third  day,  as  they 
were  win  "ng  their  way  leisurely  down  a  wood- 
ed valley,  the  sharp  craok  of  a  rifle  was  heard 
at  no  great  distance.  Reginald,  desiring  to  as- 
certain whether  Indians  or  while  men  were 
hunting  in  thu  neighbourhood,  halted  his  parly, 
and  went  forward,  accompanied  by  Baptiste,  to 
endeavour,  unperceived,  to  approach  the  'jierson 
whose  shot  they  had  heard.  A  smooth,  grassy 
glade  facilitated  their  project,  and  r»  slight  col- 
umn of  smoke  curling  up  from  an  adjoining 
thicket,  served  to  guide  them  towards  the  spot. 
Ere  they  had  advanced  far,  the  parting  of  the 
brushv/ood  showed  them  that  the  object  of  their 
search  was  approaching  the  place  where  they 
stood,  and  they  had  barely  time  to  conceal  thetn- 
selves  in  a  bush  of  sumach,  when  the  unknown 
hunter  emerged  from  the  thicket,  dragging  alter 
him  a  fine  deer.  He  was  a  powerful  man  of 
middling  height,  not  very  unlike  Baptiste  in  dress 
and  appearance,  but  even  more  embrowned  and 
weather-beaten  than  the  trusty  guide;  he  seemed 
to  be  about  fifty  years  of  age,  and  the  hair  on  his 
temples  was  scant  and  grey;  his  countenance 
was  strikingly  expressive  of  boldness  and  reso- 
lution, and  his  eye  seemed  as  clear  and  bright 
as  that  of  a  man  in  the  early  prime  of  life. 
Leaning  his  rifle  against  an  adjoining  tree,  be 
proceeded  to  handle  and  feel  his  quarry,  to  as- 
certain the  proportions  of  fat  and  meat ;  the  ex- 
amination seemed  not  unsatisfactory,  for  when 
it  was  concluded  he  wiped  the  perspiration  from 
his  brow,  and  with  a  complacent  smile  muttered 
half  aloud,  "  Ah,  'taint  every  day  as  a  man  can 
find  a  saddle  like  that  in  old  Kentuck  now— 
what  with  their  dogs,  and  girdlins,  and  clearins, 
and  hog-feedings,  and  the  other  devilments  of 
the  settlements,  the  deer's  all  driven  out  of  the 
country,  or  if  it  aint  driven  out,  they  run  all  the 
fat  off,  so  that  it's  only  fit  to  feed  one  of  your 
tradin'  townbred  fellows,  who  wouldn't  know  a 
prime  biick  from  a  Lancaster  sheep!" 

After  this  brief  soliloquy,  the  veteran  sports- 
man tucked  up  the  sleeve  of  his  hunting-shirt, 
and  proceeded  to  skin  and  cut  up  his  quarry,  with 
a  skill  and  despatch  that  showed  him  to  be  a 
perfect  master  of  his  craft.  Reginald  and  Bap- 
tiste had  remained  silent  observers  of  his  pro- 
ceedings, but  the  former  inferred  from  the  pleas- 
ed twiolile  of  the  Guide's  grey  eyes,  and  the 


comic  working  of  the  muscles  of  his  mouth,  that 
the  solitary  hunter  was  no  stranger  to  him ; 
touching  Baptiste  lightly,  he-whispered,  "I  see 
that  we  have  come  across  an  acquaintance  of 
yours  in  this  remote  place." 

"  That  we  have.  Master  Reginald,"  said  the 
Guide;  "and  you'd  have  known  him  too,  if 
you'd  spent  some  of  the  years  in  Kentuck,  as 
you  passed  at  those  colleges  in  the  old  country ; 
but  we'll  just  step  out  and  hail  him,  for  though 
he  aint  particular  fond  of  company,  he's  not  the- 
man  to  turn  his  back  on  a  friend  to  whom  he 
has  once  given  his  hand." 

So  saying,  he  rose  from  his  hiding  place,  and 
coming  out  on  the  open  glade,  before  Reginald 
could  inquire  the  stranger's  name,  the  Guide 
said  aloud,  "A  prime  buck.  Colonel,  i  see  your 
hand's  as  steady  as  ever !" 

At  the  first  sound  of  a  voice  addressing  him  in 
his  own  language,  a  shade  of  displeasure  came 
across  the  hunter's  countenance,  but  as  be  recog- 
nised the  speaker,  it  disappeared  instantly,  and 
he  replied,  "  Ha !  Baptiste,  my  old  friend,  is  that 
you  1    What  chase  are  you  on  here  1" 

So  saying,  he  grasped  the  horny  hand  of  the 
Guide,  with  a  heartiness  which  proved  that  the 
latter  was  really  welcome. 

"  Whj',  Colonel,  I'm  out  on  a  kind  o'  mixed 
hunt  this  turn-,  wiih  this  young  gentleman,  whose 
father.  Colonel  Brandon,  you've  known  many  a 
day.  Master  Reginald,  Tm  sure  you'll  be  glad 
to  be  acquainted  with  Colonel  Boone,  howbeit 
you  little  expected  to  find  him  in  this  part  of  the 
airth." 

At  the  mention  of  the  stranger's  name,  Regi- 
nald's hand  was  raised  unconsciously  to  his  cap, 
which  he  doffed  respectfully  as  he  said,  "  I  am 
indeed  glad  to  meet  the  celebrated  Daniel  Boone, 
whose  name  is  as  familiar  to  every  western 
hunter  as  that  of  Washington  or  Franklin  in  ou* 
cities." 

"  My  young  friend,"  sd  .  ihe  Colonel,  laugh- 
ing good-humoured ly, "  I  it..i  heartily  glad  to  see 
your  father's  son,  but  you  must  not  bring  the 
ways  of  the  city  into  the  woods,  by  flattering  a 
rough  old  bear-hunter  with  fine  words." 

"Nay,"  said  Reginald,  "there  is  no  flattery, 
for  Baptiste  here  has  spoken  of  you  to  me  a 
hundred  times,  and  has  told  me,  as  often,  that  a 
better  hunter,  or  a  better  man  does  no:  bre&the. 
You  seem  to  have  known  him  some  time,  and 
must,  therefore,  be  able  to  judge  whether  he  is 
of  a  fltittering  sort  or  not." 

"  Why,  it  wasn't  much  his  trade,  I  allow," 
replied  the  Colonel,  "  in  old  times  when  he  and 
I  hunted  bear  for  three  weeks  together  in  the  big 
laurel  thicket  at  Kentucky  Porks.  I  believe, 
Baptiste,  that  axe  at  your  belt  is  the  very  one 
with  which  you  killed  the  old  she,  who  wasn't 
pleased  because  we  shot  down  two  of  her  cubs ; 
she  hadn't  manners  enough  to  give  us  time  to 
load  again,  and  when  you  split  her  skull  hand- 
somely, she  was  playing  a  mighty  unpleasant 
game  with  the  stock  of  my  rifle.  Ah,  that  was 
a  reasonable  quiet  country  in  those  days,"  con- 
tinued the  Colonel ;  "  we  had  no  trouble,  but  a 
lively  bit  of  a  skrimmage,  now  and  then,  with 
the  Indians,  until  the  Browns,  and  Frasers,  and 
Micklehams,  and  heaven  knows  how  many  more 
came  to  settle  in  it,  and  what  with  their  infernal 
ploughs,  and  fences,  and  mills,  the  huntin'  w.as 
clean  spoilt ;  I  stayed  as  Ion";  as  I  could,  for  I'd  a 
kind  o'  likin'  to  it;  but  at  last  I  couldn't  go  ten 
mile  any  way  without  comin'  to  some  clearin'or 
log-hut,  so  says  I  to  myself, '  Colonel,  fie  sooner 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


67 


you  clear  out  o'  (his,  the  better  you'll  be  pleas- 
ed.' " 

"  Well,  Colonel,"  said  the  Guide,  "  I  heard 
you  had  moved  away  from  the  Forks,  and  had 
gone  further  down  west,  but  they  never  told  me 
you  had  crossed  the  big  river." 

"  I  only  came  here  last  fall,"  replied  the  Colo- 
nel ;  "  for  1  found  in  Kentucky  that  as  fast  a.^  I 
moved,  the  settlers  and  squatters  followed:  so  I 
thought  I'd  dodge  'em  once  for  all,  and  make  for 
a  country  where  the  deer  and  I  could  live  com- 
fortably together." 

"  As  we  have  thus  accidentally  fallen  in  with 
you,"  said  Reginald,  "  I  hope  you  will  take  a 
hunter's  meal  with  us  before  we  part ;  our  men  and 
baggage  are  not  a  mile  from  this  spot,  and  Colonel 
Boone  s  company  will  be  a  pleasure  to  us  ail." 

The  invitatiou  was  accepted  as  frankly  as  it 
was  given. 

Bapiiste  shouldered  the  Colonel's  venison,  and 
in  a  short  time  the  three  rejoined  Reginald's  par- 
ty. Dnniel  Boone's  name  alone  was  sufficient 
in  the  West  to  ensure  him  a  hearty  welcome. 
Perrot's  talents  were  put  into  immediat':  requi- 
sition, and  ere  long  the  game  and  poultry  of  the 
prairie  were  roasting  before  a  capital  fire,  while 
the  indefatigable  Frenchman  prepared  the  addi- 
tional and  unusual  luxuries  of  hot  maize  cakes 
and  coffee. 

During  the  repast,  Reginald  learned  from  Col- 
onel Boone  that  various  parties  of  Indians  had 
been  lately  hunting  in  the  neighbourhood.  He 
described  most  of  them  as  friendly,  and  willing 
to  trade  in  meat  or  skins  for  powder  and  lead ; 
he  t)elieved  them  to  belong  to  the  Konsas,  a  tribe 
once  powerful,  and  resident  on  the  river  called 
by  that  name  lalling  into  the  Missouri,  about  a 
hundred  miles  to  the  N.W.  of  the  place  where 
our  party  were  now  seated  j  but  the  tribe  had 
been  of  late  reduced  by  the  ravages  of  the  small- 
pox, and  by  the  incursions  of  the  Pawnees— a 
nation  more  numerous  and  warlike,  whose  vil- 
lages were  situated  a  hundred  miles  higher  up 
the  same  river.* 

The  Colonel  described  the  neighbourhood  as 
abounding  in  elk,  deer,  bear,  and  turkeys;  but 
he  said  that  the  beaver  and  buffalo  were  already 
scarce,  the  great  demand  for  their  skins  having 
caused  them  to  be  hunted  quite  out  of  the  region 
bordering  on  the  settlements.  After  spending 
a  couple  of  hours  agreeably  with  our  party,  the 
veteran  sportsman  shouldered  his  trusty  rifle, 
and  wishmg  our  hero  a  successful  hunt,  and 
shaking  his  old  comrade  Baptiste  cordially  by 
the  hand,  walked  off  leisurely  in  a  northerly  di- 
rection, towards  his  present  abode;  which'was 
not,  he  said,  so  far  aistant  but  that  he  should 
easily  reach  it  before  sundown. 

As  the  last  glimp-^c  of  his  retiring  figure  was 
lost  in  the  shades  of  the  forest,  the  Guide  uttered 
one  of  those  grunts  which  he  sometimes  uncon- 
sciously indulged.  Reginald  knew  that  on  these 
occasions  there  was  something  on  his  mind,  and 
guessing  that  it  referred  to  their  departed  guest, 
he  said, 

"  Well,  Baptiste,  I  am  really  glad  to  have  seen 
Daniel  Boone;  and  I  can  truly  say,  I  am  not 
disappointed ;  he  seems  to  be  just  the  sort  of  man 
that  I  expected  to  see." 


*  The  Pawnee  nations  hare  of  late  yean  fixed  their  win- 
ter Tillngea  on  the  banks  of  the  Nehraslia,  or  Platte  River, 
many  hunilmd  miles  to  the  N.W.  of  the  spot  nnnieil  in  the 
text ;  but  at  the  dMe  of  our  narrative  they  dwelt  on  the 
banks  of  the  Konsas,  where  the  ruins  of  their  principal  vil- 
lage are  still  faintly  tc  be  discerned.  ,,■     .   . 


"  He  is  a  sort,"  said  the  Guide,  "  that  we  dont 
see  every  dav,  Master  Reginald.  Perhaps  he 
ain't  much  of  a  talker;  an' he  don't  u.se  to  quar- 
rel unless  there's  a  reason  for 't ;  but  if  he's  once 
aggravated,  or  if  his  friend's  in  a  scrape,  he'a 
rather  apt  to  be  dangerous." 

"  I  doubt  it  not,"  said  Reginald ;  "  there  is  a 
quiet  look  of  resolution  about  him;  and,  in  a 
difficulty,  I  would  rather  have  one  such  man 
with  me  than  two  or  three  of  your  violent,  noisy 
brawlers." 

As  he  said  this  his  eye  inadvertently  rested 
upon  the  huge  figure  uf  Mike  Smith,  who  was 
seated  at  a  little  distance  lazily  smoking  his 
pipe,  and  leaning  against  a  log  of  fallen  timber. 
The  Guide  observed  the  direction  of  Reginald's 
eye,  and  guessed  what  was  passing  in  his  mind. 
A  grave  smile  stole  for  a  moment  over  his  fea- 
tures ;  but  he  made  no  reply,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes, the  marching  orders  being  issued,  the  party 
resumed  their  journey. 

On  the  following  day  they  reached  a  point 
where  the  track  branched  on  in  two  directions  j 
the  broader,  and  more  beaten,  tc  the  N.W.;  the 
other  towards  the  S.W.  The  Guide  inform- 
ed them  that  the  former  led  along  by  the  few  scat- 
tered settlements,  that  were  already  made  on  the 
.southern  side  of  the  Missouri,  towards  the  ferry 
and  trading-post  near  the  mouih  of  the  Konsas 
river;  while  the  smaller,  and  less  beaten  track, 
led  toward  he  branch  of  Osage  river,  on  which 
the  united  .  of  Delawares  and  Osages,  whom 
thev  sougHi,  were  encamped. 

Having  followed  this  track  for  fifly  miles,  they 
came  to  a  spot,  then  known  among  hunters  by 
the  name  of  the  Elk  Flats,  where  the  branch  of 
the  Osage,  called  Grand  River,  is  fordable. 
Here  they  crossed  without  accident  or  difficulty, 
except  that  M.  Perrot's  horse  missed  his  footing, 
and  slipped  into  a  deeper  part  of  the  stream. 
The  horse  swam  lustily,  and  soon  reached  the 
opposite  bank ;  but  the  Frenchman  had  cast  him- 
.self  off,  and  now  grasped  with  both  hands  an  old 
limb  of  a  tree  that  was  imbedded  near  the  mid- 
dle of  the  river;  he  could  just  touch  the  ground 
with  his  feet,  but,  being  a  bad  swimmer,  be  was 
afraid  to  let  go  his  hold,  for  fear  of  being  again 
swept  away  by  the  current,  while  his  rueful 
countenance,  and  his  cries  for  assistance,  pro- 
voked the  mirth  of  all  the  party. 

After  enjoying  his  •  !  et's  alarm  for  a  few  min- 
utes, Reginald,  who  had  already  crossed,  entered 
the  river  again  with  Nekimi,  and  approaching 
Perrot,  desired  him  to  grasp  the  mane  firmly  in 
his  hand,  and  leave  the  rest  to  the  animal's  sa- 
gacity, which  instruction  being  obeyed,  he  was 
safely  brought  ashore,  and  in  a  short  time  was 
laugninc:  louder  than  the  rest  at  his  own  fright, 
and  at  the  ludicrous  predicament  from  which  he 
had  been  extricated. 

The  packages  were  all  conveyed  across  with  • 
out  accident,  and  the  party  found  themselves  en- 
camped in  what  was  then  considered  a  part  of 
the  Osage  country.  Here  tl  ay  were  obliged  to 
use  greater  vigilance  in  the  protection  of  their 
camp  and  of  their  horses,  during  the  night,  as 
they  had  not  yet  smoked  the  pipe  with  the  chiefs, 
and  were  liable  to  an  attack  from  a  party  of 
v/arriors  or  horsestealers. 

The  night  passed,  however,  without  any  dis- 
turbance ;  and  on  the  following  day  at  noon,  they 
reached  a  spot  which  Baptiste  recognized  as  a 
former  camping-place  of  the  Osages,  and  which 
he  knew  to  be  not  distant  from  their  present  vil- 
lage.   Here  his  attention  was  suddenly  drawn 


'  il 


68 


THE  PRAIHIE-BIRD. 


to  an  adjoining  maple,  on  tlic  bark  of  which 
sundry  murks  were  rudely  cut,  and  in  a  Ibrlf  o. 
-he  iree  were  ilirea  arrows,  and  as  many  sopar- 
aie  hunches  ol  horsehair.  He  examined  all  me.se 
carelully,  and  replaced  them  exactly  as  he  found 
Jhem;  alter  which  he  inlbrmed  Reginald  that 
three  braves  ul'  the  Osuges  had  gone  forward  dii- 
Ting  the  past  night  un  a  war-excursion  towards 
the  Konsas,  and  all  lhe.se  marks  were  lel't  to  in- 
form their  followers  of  their  purpose,  and  the 
exact  path  which  thev  intended  to  pursue.  He 
also  advised  HeginulU  to  halt  his  oaity  here, 
'\«°hile  he  went  on  himself  with  one  of  titie  men 
to  the  village,  it  being  contrary  to  the  customs  of 
Indian  tiiqiiette  lor  a  great  man  to  uoiue  among 
them  unannounced. 

Reginald  adopted  his  counsel,  and  the  sturdy 
Guide,  accompanied  by  one  of  the  coureurs  des 
Bois,  set  out  upon  his  mission,  the  result  of  which 
will  appear  in  the  following  chapter. 


i-'i-.i'    CHAPTER  XVIII. 

lleginaM  and  his  I'nrly  reach  the  Indian  Eucamiimcnt. 

The  Guide  and  his  companion  pursued  their 
"way  leisurely  along  a  beaten  tri '  Ic,  which  led 
them  through  a  well-timbered  valley,  watered 
by  one  of  the  branches  of  Grand  River,  until  it 
emerged  upon  a  rising  slope  of  open  prairie. 
Having  gained  its  summit,  they  saw  at  a  little 
distance  the  Indian  encampment  stretched  along 
the  banks  of  a  rivulet,  which,  alter  curving  round 
the  base  of  the  hill^on  which  they  now  stood, 
found  its  way  to  the  line  of  heavy  timber  that 
marked  the  course  of  the  main  river.  They 
"were  soon  hailed  by  a  mounted  Delaware  scout, 
to  whom  Baptiste  explained  the  peaceful  nature 
of  his  mission,  and  desired  to  be  shown  into  the 
presence  of  the  principal  chiefs. 

As  the  Guide  walked  through  the  scattered 
lodges  of  the  Delawares,  his  eye  rested  on  more 
than  one  Indian  to  whom  he  was  well  known ; 
but  as  he  was  now  acting  in  the  capacity  of  am- 
bassador, it  was  not  consistent  with  Indian 
usage  that  he  should  speak  or  be  spoken  to  by 
others  on  the  way.  So  well  did  he  know  the 
habits  of  the  people  among  whom  he  now  found 
himself,  that  when  he  arrived  before  the  lodge  of 
the  Great  Chief,  he  passed  by  War-Eagle  and 
Wingenund,  who  had  come  to  its  entrance  on 
the  approach  <.i°  a  stranger,  and  giving  them 
merely  a  silent  sign  of  recognition,  look  the  place 
pointed  out  to  him  in  the  cenlre  of  the  lodge,  by 
the  side  of  the  venerable  man  who  was  the  head 
of  this  emigrant  band  of  the  Lenap^;  to  whom, 
as  the  highest  proof  of  their  respect  and  venera- 
tion, they  had  given  the  name  of  Tamenund,* 
by  which  alone  he  was  now  known  throughout 
the  nation. 


*  The  name  of  Tanienuud  ii  duubtleaa  familiar  to  all 
Ameriuans  who  have  taken  the  alightcat  iutereatin  the  his- 
tory of  the  Indiau  tribes,  ns  well  as  tn  that  more  numerous 
v\u»  who  have  read  the  graphic  and  picturesc|ue  dnsrrip- 
tioos  penned  by  the  great  American  novelist ;  nevertheless, 
It  may  be  necessary,  fur  th«  information  of  some  European 
readers,  to  state,  that  Tamenund  was  an  ancient  Lenapi 
chief,  whose  traditionary  fame  is  so  great  in  the  tribe,  that 
they  have  from  time  t»  time  given  his  name  to  chiefs,  and 
even  to  white  men,  whom  they  desired  especially  to  hon- 
our. At  the  time  of  the  revolutionary  war,  so  numerous 
were  the  traditions  and  legends  respecting  this  hero,  that 
he  was  in  some  quarters  established  as  the  patron  saint  of 
America,  under  the  name  of  St.  Taminiiny  :  and  hence  arose 
tne  Tummany  societies  and  Tammany  buildinfrs  in  various 
]>aas  of  the  tinion.  See  Htckewaidttr^s  Historical  Acrount 
of  the  Indian  fiationa,  chap,  xl.,  and  The  Last  of  the  Mohi- 
cans, vol.  iii.,  p.  153,  &c. 


The  pipe  of  welcome  having  been  presented, 
and  liL'cn  .tiiioked  lor  a  lew  inlnuies  w  iili  bccoin- 
mg  gravity,  Hapiisie  opened- to  'ruineniiinl  tliu 
object  of  Ills  visit,  and  Inlijriiied  him  that  a  white 
warrior  and  cliief,  already  known  tu  some  of  the 
Delawares  present, desired  tueat,  to  smoke,  and  lo 
hunt  with  them  for  a  season  a>'  a  brother.  'i"o 
this  Tamenund,  who  hud  already  been  inrorme<l 
by  Wur-Eagle  tif  the  character  and  conduct  of 
Reginald,  as  well  as  of  his  promised  visit,  repli- 
ed with  becoming  dignity  and  hospitality,  that 
the  young  wt.ite  chiel  should  be  welcome;  that 
his  heart  was  known  to  be  great  among  the  Del- 
awares, and  that  both  he  and  his  people  should 
be  helu  as  brothers;  at  the  same  time  lie  inform- 
ed the  Guide,  that  as  they  were  about  to  move 
their  encampment  immediately  to  a  more  fa- 
vou'-ablc  spot,  it  might  be  better  for  the  White 
Chief  to  join  them  on  the  following  morning, 
when  all  should  be  prepared  for  his  reception. 

The  Guide  having  acceded  to  this  suggestion, 
rose  to  take  his  leave,  and  retired  with  hia  com- 
panion from  the  village.  Before  they  had  gone 
a  mile  on  their  return,  they  heard  behind  them 
the  trampling  of  horses,  and  Baptiste  recognised 
War-Eagle  and  Wingenund  approaching  at  full 
speed,  who  greeted  him  cordially,  and  made 
many  inquiries  about  Netis  and  the  Lily  of 
Mooshanne. 

Having  acquired  the  desired  information,  it 
was  agreed,  that  before  noon  on  the  following 
day  Reginald  should  come  lo  the  spot  where 
ihey  were  now  conversing,  and  that  War-Eagle 
should  be  there  to  escort  and  accompany  him  to 
his  first  meeting  with  Ihe  Delaware  and  Osage 
chiefs. 

These  preliminaries  being  arranged,  the  Indi- 
ans galloped  back  to  the  village,  and  Baptiste 
returned  without  accident  or  interruption  to  Re- 
ginald's camp,  where  he  gave  an  account  of  his 
mission  and  of  the  arrangements  for  the  mor- 
row's conference. 

Early  on  Ihe  following  morning  they  .set  forth 
towards  Ihe  Indian  village.  By  Baptisie's  ad- 
vice, Reginald  attired  himself  more  gaily  than 
usual ;  his  hunting-shirt  and  leggins  of  elkskin 
were  urnnmented  with  fringes;  the  bugle  slung 
across  his  shoulders  was  suspended  bv  a  green 
cord  adorned  with  tas.sels;  on  his  head  he  wore 
a  forage-cap  encircled  by  a  gold  band ;  a  brace 
of  silver-mounted  pistols  were  stuck  in  his  belt, 
and  a  German  boar-knife  hung  at  his  side ;  he 
had  allowed  Baptiste  to  ornament  Nekimi's  bri- 
dle with  beads,  afler  the  Indian  fashioi.,  and  thi; 
noble  animal  pranced  under  his  gallant  ridei  as 
if  conscious  that  he  was  expected  to  show  his 
beauty  and  his  mettle.  The  dress  and  appear- 
ance of  Reginald,  though  fanciful  and  strange, 
were  rendered  striking  by  the  grace  and  muscu- 
lar vigour  of  his  frame,  as  well  as  by  the  open, 
fiearless  character  of  his  countenance;  and  the 
party  of  Whitemen  went  gaily  forward,  confi- 
dent in  the  favourable  impression  which  their 
young  leader  would  make  on  their  Indian  al- 
lies. 

When  they  reached  the  spot  where  Baptiste 
had,  on  the  preceding  day,  parted  from  War- 
Eagle,  Ihey  descried  two  Indians  sitting  at  the 
root  of  an  old  maple-tree,  as  if  awaiting  their  ar- 
rival; a  single  glance  enabled  Reginald  to  rec- 
ognise them,  and  springing  from  his  horse,  he 
greeted  War-Eagle  and  Wingenund  with  affec- 
tionate cordiality,  and  read  in  the  looks  of  both, 
though  the/  spoke  little,  that  he  was  heartily 
welcome.    When  they  had  saluted  Baptiste,  Re- 


party  aga 
of  War-l 


THE  PBATRIE-BIRD. 


C9 


presented, 
nil  tH'fiiin- 

lOIHIIIll   ilio 
llala  while 
iotiie  ot'llie 
ioke,aiiilli> 
iillier.     'i"i> 
II  iiilurined 
eomliict  of 
visit,  lepli- 
laliiy,  ihat 
come;  that 
OK  the  Del- 
>ple  should 
'  lie  inlbrin- 
ut  to  inuve 
u  more  la- 
the White 
j  morning, 
->;ceplion. 
suggestion, 
th  his  coin- 
•y  had  gone 
ehind  them 
;  recognised 
ching  at  lull 
and   made 
the  Lily  of 

ormation,  it 
le  following 
spot  where 
"VVar-liagle 
pany  him  to 
!  and  Osnge 

;ed,  the  Indi- 
md  Bapiiste 
ption  to  Re- 
count of  his 
lor  the  mor- 

hey  set  forth 
aptiste's  ad- 
e  gaily  than 
IS  of  elkskin 
bugle  slung 
J  by  a  green 
ead  he  wore 
indj  a  brace 
{  in  his  belt, 
his  side ;  he 
«(ekimi's  bri- 
lioi.,  and  the 
llant  ridei  as 

to  show  his 

and  appear- 
and strange, 

and  muscu- 
hy  the  open, 
ipe;  and  the 
rward,  confi- 

which  their 
ir  Indian  al- 

lere  Baptiste 
fl-om  War- 
sitting  at  the 
iting  their  ar- 
;inald  to  rec- 
his  horse,  he 
d  with  affec- 
ooks  of  both, 
was  heartily 
Baptiste,  Re- 


:;inald  introduced  them  in  form  to  the  other 
iiieijibers  of  his  parly,  and  among  the  le.st,  to 
Monsieur  Perroi,  who  having  as  yet  seen  liew 
Indians,  and  thoNe  of  the  iiiuaneitt  cUss,  was  sur- 
prised ut  the  nulile  and  dignitied  ap|>eurance  ol 
vVai-K.igle,  to  whom  lie  dotfed  his  cup  with  as 
iiuicli  respect  as  if  he  had  been  a  field-marshal 
of  l''rancc. 

fluving  innde  a  short  halt,  during  which  the 
pipe  was  passed  round,  and  some  cakes  of  In- 
dian coin  and  honey  set  belbre  their  guests,  the 
party  again  moved  forward,  under  the  guidance 
of  VVar-Edgle.  Leaving  the  heavy  timber  in 
the  valley,  they  ascended  the  opposite  hill,  where 
a  inagnihcent  prospect  opened  upon  their  view; 
below  thcin  was  an  undulating  prairie  of  bound- 
less extent,  through  the  middle  of  which  ran  a 
tributaiy  branch' of  Grand  River;  behind  them 
lay  the  verdant  mass  of  Ibrest  from  which  they 
had  lately  emerged ;  the  plain  in  front  was  dot- 
ted with  the  lodges  of  the  Delawares  and  the 
Osages,  while  scattered  groups  of  Indians,  and 
grazing  horses,  gave  life,  animation,  and  endless 
vurictv  to  the  scene. 

Halting  for  a  moment  on  the  brow  of  the  hill, 
War-Eagleuointed  out  to  Reginald  the  lodge  ot 
his  father  Tamenund,  distinguierhed  above  the 
rest  by  its  superior  size  and  elevation,  and  at  the 
same  time  showed  him  at  the  other  extremity  of 
the  encampment,  a  lodge  of  similar  dimensions, 
which  he  described  as  being  that  of  the  O^age 
chief. 

"  How  is  he  called  1"  inauired  Reginald. 

"  Mahiga,"  replied  the  War-Eagle. 

At  the  mention  of  this  name  the  Guide  uttered 
one  of  those  peculiar  t^ounds,  something  between 
a  whistle  and  a  grunt,  by  which  Reginald  knew 
that  something  was  passing  in  his  mind,  but  on 
this  occasion,  without  apparently  noticing  the 
interruption,  he  continued,  addressing  War- 
Eagle,  "  Will  Mahega  receive  me  too  as  a 
brother— is  the  Osage  chief  a  friend  to  the  White- 
men  V 

"Mahega  is  a  warrior,"  replied  the  Indian; 
"  he  hunts  with  the  Lenapi,  and  he  must  be  a 
friend  of  their  brother." 

Not  only  did  this  answer  appear  evasive,  but 
there  was  also  something  more  than  usually 
constrained  in  the  tone  and  manner  of  War-Ea- 
gle, which  did  not  escape  the  observation  of 
Reginald,  and  with  the  straightforward  openness 
of  his  character,  he  said,  "  War-Eagle,  mv  heart 
is  open  to  you,  and  my  tongue  can  be  silent  if 
required — speak  to  me  freely,  and  tell  me  if  Ma- 
hega is  a  friend  or  not;  is  he  a  brave  or  a 
snaifel" 

War-Eagle,  fixing  his  searching  eye  upon 
Keginald's  countenance,  replied,  "  Mamga  is  a 
warrior— the  scalps  in  his  lodge  are  many— his 
name  is  not  a  lie,  but  his  heart  is  not  that  of  a 
Lena pc— War- Eagle  will  not  speak  of  him:— 
Grand  HAche  knows  him,andhny  brother's  eyes 
will  lie  open." 

Having  thus  spoken,  the  young  chief  added  a 
few  words  in  his  own  tongue  to  Baptiste,  and 
making  a  sign  for  Wingenund  to  Ibllow,  he 
galloped  off  at  speed  towards  the  encamp- 
ment. 

Reginald,  surprised,  and  somewhat  inclined 
to  be  displeased  by  their  abrupt  departure,  turn- 
ed to  the  Guide,  and  inquired  the  cause  of  it, 
and  also  the  meaning  of  War-Eagle's  las*, 
words. 

Baptiste,  shaking  his  head  significantly,  re- 
plied in  a  low  voice,  "  I  know  Mahega  well— 


at  leas'.  I  have  heard  much  of  lim ;  his  name 
sigiiilies  '  Red-hand,'  and,  as  tlie  young  chief 
suy.s,  it  tells  no  lie,  for  he  has  ki  led  many ;  last 
year  he  aiuicked  a  war-parly  of  Hie  Oiiiagamis* 
iiear  the  Great  River,  and  cut  them  off  to  a  man ; 
he  himself  killed  their  chief  uiid  ieveral  of  their 
warriors— they  nay  he  is  the  stDngest  and  the 
bravest  man  in  the  nation." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Regina  d,  "  that  War- 
Eagle  and  be  are  not  very  good  fi  lends." 

"  They  are  not,"  replied  Baptis  e;  *' the  young 
Delaware  has  evidently  some  quarrel  with  him, 
and  thereibre  would  not  speak  of  lim — we  shall 
learn  what  it  is  beibre  many  dttya  are  over; 
meanwhile,  Master  Reginald,  s.iy  nothing  to 
any  others  of  the  party  on  this  subject,  Ibr  they 
may  take  alarm,  or  show  suspicic  n,  and  if  they 
do,  your  summer  hunt  may  chance  to  end  in 
rougher  play  than  we  expect.  I  will  keep  my 
eye  on  '  Red-hand,'  and  will  soon  tell  you  what 
tree  he's  making  fur." 

"  Why  did  they  gallop  off  so  abruptly!"  In- 
quired Reginald. 

"They  are  gone  to  rejoin  the  bands  which 
are  coming  out  to  receive  us  on  oar  entrance," 
replied  the  Guide.  "We  must  p<it  our  party 
in  their  best  array,  and  get  the  presents  ready, 
for  we  have  not  many  minutes  to  sjare." 

The  event  proved  the  correctness  of  his  calcu- 
lation ;  for  they  had  scarcely  time  t  >  select  from 
the  packs  those  articles  destined  to  be  presented 
to  the  chiefs  at  this  mtervicw,  beft  re  they  saw 
two  large  bands  of  mounted  Indians  gallop  to- 
wards them  from  the  opposite  extremities  of  the 
encampment.  A.s  they  drew  near  that  which 
came  from  the  Delaware  quarter,  and  was  head- 
ed by  War-Eagle  in  person,  they  cl  ecked  their 
speed,  and  approached  slowly,  while  their  lead- 
er, advancing  in  front  of  the  band,  siJuted  Regi- 
nald and  his  party  with  4ignifieil  courtesy. 
Meanwhile,  the  body  of  Osages  con  inued  their 
career  with  headlong  speed,  shouti  ig,  yelling, 
and  goin?  through  all  the  exciting  inancBuvres 
of  a  mock  fight,  after  their  wild  fash  on.  Their 
dress  was  more  scanty  and  less  ornamented  than 
that  of  the  Delawares ;  but  being  t  ricked  out 
with  painted  horsehair,  porcupine  quills,  and 
feathers,  it  bore  altogether  a  more  gay  and  pic- 
turesque appearance;  neither  can  it  be  dented 
that  they  were,  in  general,  better  hon  emen  than 
their  allies;  and  they  seemed  to  deligit  in  show- 
ing off  their  equestrian  skill,  especislly  in  gal- 
loping up  to  Reginald's  party  at  the  very  top  of 
their  speed,  and  then  either  halting  sn  suddenly 
as  to  throw  their  horses  quite  back  upon  their 
hannches,  or  dividing  off  to  the  right  and  to  the 
left,  and  renewing  their  manoeuvres  in  another 
quarter  with  increased  extravagance  of  noise 
and  gesture. 

Reginald  having  learned  from  Bsptiste  that 
this  was  their  mode' of  showing  honot  r  to  guests 
on  their  arrival,  awaited  patiently  the  termina- 
tion of  their  manoeuvres;  and  when  at  length 
they  ceased,  and  the  Osage  party  ndned  their 
horses  up  by  the  side  of  the  Delawans,  he  went 
forward  and  shook  hands  with  iheii  leader,  a 
warrior  somewhat  older  than  War-IJagle,  and 
of  a  fine  martial  appearance.  As  soon  as  he 
Ibund  an  opportunity,  Reginald,  turning  to  Win- 
genund, who  was  close  behind  him  inquired, 
in  English,  if  that  Osage  chief  wa-  " Mahe- 
ga V 


.1  'I 


*  The  tnlie  rnlleJ  liy  wliite  men  "the  Foil  en,"  who  in- 
liatiit  c'hietly  the  region  Ijetween  the  Upper  Maiiiisi|ipi  and 
Lake  Michigan. 


40 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


"  No,"  replied  Ihe  youth,  "  thai  is  a  brave,* 
called  in  their  tongue  the  Black- Wolf.    Mah^ 

5a,"  he  added  with  a  peculiar  smile,  "  i»  very 
ifierent." 

"  How  do  you  mean,  Winjtenund  1" 

•■  Black- Woir,"  replied  the  youth,  "  in  a  war- 
rior, and  has  no  fear,  but  he  is  not  like  Mahi- 
gaj  an  antelope  is  not  an  elk  *" 

While  this  conversation  was  soing  on,  the 
party  entered  the  encampment,  and  wound  their 
way  among  its  scattered  lodges,  towards  that  of 
Tamenund,  where,  as  the  War-Eagle  informed 
Reginald,  a  foaiitwaK  prepared  for  his  reception, 
to  which  Muhiga  aii'  ihe  other  Osage  leaders 
were  invited. 

On  arriving  before  the  great  lodge,  Reginald 
and  his  com])anions  dismounted,  and  giving  their 
horses  to  the  youths  in  attendance,  ahuok  hands 
in  succession  with  the  principal  chiefs  nnd  braves 
of  the  two  nations,  lleginald  was  much  struck 
by  the  benevolent  nnd  dignitied  countenance  of 
the  Delaware  chief;  but  in  spite  of  himself,  and 
of  a  preconceived  dislike  which  he  was  inclined 
to  entertain  towards  Mah^ga  or  Red-hand,  his 
eye  rested  on  that  haughly  chiellain  with  niin- 
gled  surprise  and  adiniraiion.  He  was  nearly  a 
Read  taller  than  those  by  whom  he  was  surround- 
ed) nnd  his  limbs,  though  cast  in  a  Herculean 
mould,  showed  the  symmetrical  proportions 
whicii  are  so  distinctive  of  the  North  American 
Indians;  his  forehead  was  bold  and  high,  his 
no.se  aquiline,  and  his  mouth  broad,  firm,  and 
expressive  of  most  determined  character;  his 
eye  was  rather  small,  but  bright  and  piercing  as 
a  hawk's ;  his  hair  had  been  all  shaven  from  his 
head,  with  the  exception  of  the  scalp-lock  on  Ihe 
crown,  which  was  painted  scarlet,  and  interwo- 
ven with  a  tull  or  horsehair  dyed  of  the  same  col- 
our. Around  his  musculoi'  tnroat  was  suspend- 
ed a  collar  formed  ixom  the  claws  of  the  F;rizzly 
bear,  ornamented  with  parti-coloured  beads,  en- 
twined wiih  the  delicate  fur  of  the  white  ermine; 
his  hunting-shirt  and  leggins  were  of  the  finest 
antelope  skin,  and  his  mocassins  were  adorned 
with  beads  and  the  stained  quills  of  the  porcu- 
pine. He  leaned  carelessly  on  a  bow,  which 
lew  men  in  the  tribe  could  bend.  At  his  back 
were  slung  his  arrows  in  a  quiver  made  of  wolf- 
skin, so  disposed  that  the  grinning  visage  of  the 
animal  was  seen  above  his  shoulder,  while  a 
war-club  and  scalping-knite,  fastened  to  his  belt, 
completed  the  formidable  Mah^ga's  equipment. 

As  he  glanced  his  eye  over  the  party  of'  white 
men,  there  was  an  expression  of  scornful  pride 
on  his  countenance,  which  the  quick  temper  of 
their  youthful  leader  was  ill  disposed  to  brook, 
had  not  the  prudent  counsels  of  the  Guide  pre- 
pared him  lor  the  exercise  of  self-command. 
Nevertheless,  as  he  turned  from  the  Osage  chief 
to  the  bulky  proportions  of  his  gigantic  follower, 
Mike  Smith,  he  felt  that  it  was  like  comparing 
a  lion  with  an  ox ;  and  that  in  the  event  of  a 


*  In  detcribin?  the  manners  and  dittinctioni  of  rank 
amon^  the  Indiana  of  the  Missouri  plains,  it  is  necessary  to 
adopt  the  terms  in  common  use  among  thn  guides  and  tra- 
ders, however  vapue  and  uusatiafb  tury  those  terms  may 
be.  In  tliese  tribes  the  chieftainship  is  partly  hereditary 
and  partly  elective  ;  there  is  usually  nno  Great  Chief,  and 
there  are  also  chiefs  of  a  second  degree,  who  are  chiefs  of 
different  bands  in  the  tribe  ;  next  to  these  in  rank  are  the 
"  Braves,"  the  leading  warriors  of  the  nation ;  and  in  order 
to  be  qualified  for  admission  into  this  rank,  an  Indian  must 
have  killed  an  enrmy  or  (fiven  other  sufficient  eridemo  of 
courage  and  capacity.  When  a  war-council  is  held,  the 
opinion  of  the  principal  Brave  is  frequently  preferred  be- 
fore that  of  the  chief; 


quarrel  between  them,  the  rifle  alone  cotiid  ren- 
der its  issue  doubtful. 

The  feait  of  welcome  was  now  prepared  in 
the  lodge  of  Tamenund,  which  was  composed 
of  bison  skins  stretched  upon  poles,  arranged  in 
the  form  of  a  horse-shoe,  and  covering  an  extent 
of  ground  apparently  not  less  than  twenty  yards 
in  length.  Reginaldobserved  also  several  small- 
er lodges  immediatel)^  adjoining  that  of  the  chiel, 
on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  a  circular  lent  of 
wax-cloth,  or  painted  canvass,  evidently  pro- 
cured from  white  men,  as  it  was  of  excellent 
texture,  and  its  door,  or  aperture,  protected  by 
double  folds  of  the  same  material. 

While  he  was  still  looking  at  this  compara- 
tively civilized  dwelling,  with  some  curiosity  to 
kr.  i)v  by  whom  it  mignt  be  tenanted,  the  folds 
of  the  opening  were  pushed  aside,  and  an  elder- 
ly man  appeared,  who,  alter  contemplating  for 
a  moment  the  newly-arrived  group,  came  for- 
ward to  offer  them  a  friendly  salutation.  He 
was  apparently  between  fifty  and  sixtv;  but  his 
years  were  not  easily  guessed,  for  his  snow- 
white  hair  mi^ht  seem  to  have  numbered  seven- 
ty winters;  while  from  the  uprightness  of  his 
carriage,  and  the  elasticity  of  fSis  sien,  he  seem- 
ed scarcely  past  the  vigour  of  middle  life.  In 
figure  he  was  tall  and  slight;  his  countenance, 
though  tanned  by  long  exposure  to  the  sun,  was 
strikmgly  attractive,  and  his  mild  blue  eye 
beamed  with  an  expression  of  benevolence  not 
to  be  mistaken.  His  dress  was  a  black  frock 
of  serge,  fastened  at  the  waist  by  a  girdle  of  the 
same  colour,  from  which  was  suspended  a  small 
bag,  wherein  he  carried  the  few  simples  and  in- 
struments requisite  tor  his  daily  offices  of  chari- 
ty and  kindness.  Dark  grey  trousers  of  the 
coarsest  texture,  and  mocassins  of  buffalo  hide, 
completed  the  dress  of  Paul  Muller,  already 
mentioned  by  Wingenund  to  Reginald  as  the 
"Black  Father;"  under  which  name,  translated 
according  to  their  various  languages,  the  pious 
and  excellent  Missionary  was  known  among  the 
Dela wares,  Osages,  loways,  Otoes,  Konsas,  and 
other  tribes  then  inhabiting  the  regions  lying  be- 
tween the  Mi.ssouri  and  the  Arkansas. 

Such  was  the  man  who  now  came  forward  to 
^reet  the  newly-arrived  party ;  and  such  was  th 
irresistible  charm  of  his  voice  and  manner,  that 
from  the  first  Reginald  felt  himself  constrained 
to  love  and  respect  him. 

The  feast  being  now  ready,  and  Reginald  hav- 
ing pointed  out  Baptiste  and  Bearskin  as  hi» 
officers,  or  lieutenants,  they  were  invited  with 
him  to  sit  down  in  the  lodge  of  Tamenund,  with 
the  principal  chiefs  of  Ihe  Delawares,  the  Chief 
and  Great  Medicine  Man*  of  the  Osages,  and  the 
Black  Father.  (Mike  Smith  and  the  other  white 
men  being  feasted  by  a  brave  in  an  ailjoining 
lodge.)  The  pipe  was  lighted,  and  having  been 
passed  twice  round  the  parly  with  silent  gravity, 
the  Great  Medicine  made  a  speech,  in  which  ha 
praisedthe  virtues  and  hospitality  of  Tamenund, 
and  paid  many  compliments  to  the  white  guests ; 
afler  which  a  substantial  dinner  was  set  before 


*  "  Medicine-men."  This  term  (commonly  used  by  tra- 
ders among  the  Indians  beyond  thn  Mississippi)  signifies  the 
"priests,"  or."  mystery-men,"  who  are  set  apart  for  the 
celebration  «f  all  religious  rites  and  ceremonies.  They  aro 
the  same  class  as  those  who  were  descrilied  by  Charlovoix, 
and  other  early  French  writers,  as  "  Jongleurs,"  because 
they  unite  medical  practice  to  their  sai'erdotal  office,  and, 
more  especially  in  the  former,  exercise  all  nninner  of  absurd 
mummery.  Their  dross,  character,  and  habits  vary  accord- 
ing to  the  tribe  to  which  they  belong ,  but  they  are  genuine 
"  Jongleurs"  throughout.  ,   . .  _  ^ 


THE     PAIRIE.BIRD. 


61 


s  eoakl  ren- 

prepared  in 
i  cuinposed 
arraiigeit  in 
[)gan  fzlcnc 
weniy  yards 
vera!  small- 
olihe  chief, 
ular  lent  of 
idenlly  pro- 
of excellent 
protected  by 

is  compara- 
t  curiosity  to 
ed,  the  (olds 
md  an  elder- 
iiplaiing  for 
p,  came  for- 
itation.    He 
Ixty;  but  his 
ir  his  snow- 
ibered  seven- 
itness  of  his 
en,  he  seem- 
Idle  life.    In 
counfenance, 
the  sun,  was 
ild  blue   eye 
levolencc  not 
I  black  frock 
girdle  of  the 
>nded  a  small 
uples  and  in- 
Rces  of  chari- 
)users  of  the 
'  buffalo  hide, 
iiller,  already 
i|;inald  as  the 
ne,  translated 
;es,  the  pious 
Yn  among  the 
,  Konsas,  and 
ions  lying  be- 
isas. 

ne  forward  to 

such  wasth 

manner,  that 

If  constrained 

Reginald  har- 
irsKin  as  his- 

invited  with 
roenund,  with 
res,  the  Chief 
sages,  and  the 
lie  other  white 

an  adjoining 
d  having  been 
silent  gravity, 
1,  in  which  he 
ofTamenund, 

white  guests ; 
^as  set  before 


them,  consisting  of  roasted  buffalo-ribs,  venison, 
and  boilrd  maize. 

Keginuld  had  never  belore  been  present  at  an 
Indian  feiist,  and  though  he  had  the  appetite  nat- 
urally belonging  to  Itia  age  and  health,  he  »oon 
found  that  hu  was  nu  mulch,  as  a  trencherman, 
for  those  among  whom  lie  was  now  placed ;  and 
before  they  had  hall  fini.shud  their  meal,  he  re- 
placed his  knife  in  its  sheath  and  announced 
himself  suti!<fied. 

The  old  chief  smiled  gootl-humouredly,  and 
said  that  he  would  .'^oon  do  better,  while  Mah^ga, 
(quietly  commencing  an  attack  upon  a  ttiird  buf- 
lalo-rih,  glanced  at  him  with  a  look  of  contempt 
that  he  was  at  no  pains  to  conceal,  and  which, 
as  may  well  be  imagined,  increased  our  hero's 
dislike  lor  the  gigantic  Osage. 


CHAPTER  XIX.      ■ 

Raflnald  and  hia  pnrty  at  the  Indian  •ncampmenl. 

While  Keginald  and  his  two  companions 
were  leastini;  with  Tamenund,  a  siriiilar  repast 
was  laid  before  the  rest  of  the  party,  in  the 
lodge  of  a  brave  named  Maque-o-nah,  or  the 
"  liear-asleep,"  at  whieh  Mike  Smith  occupied 
the  centre,  or  principal  seat,  and  next  to  him 
sal  Monsieur  Perroi — the  latter  personage  bring 
very  curious  to  see  the  culinary  arrangements 
made  lor  this,  his  first  Indian  banquet.  He 
was  horrified  at  observing  the  carelessness 
with  which  they  thrust  hnl(  he  side  of  a  buffalo 
to  the  edg«  of  a  huge  tire  of  undried  wood, 
leaving  a  portion  of  the  meat  to  be  singed  and 
burnt,  while  other  parts  were  scarcely  exposed 
to  the  heat ;  he  could  r..it  refrain  from  express- 
ing to  one  of  the  Canadian  coureurs  des  Bnis, 
in  Ills  own  language,  his  contempt  and  pity  for 
the  ignorant  savages,  wlio  thus  presumed  to 
desecrate  a  noble  science,  which  ranked  higher, 
in  his  estimation,  tlian  poetry,  painting,  or 
sculpture ;  but  he  was  warned  that  he  must  be 
very  careful  neither  to  reject,  nor  snow  any 
distaste  fur  the  food  set  before  him,  as,  by  so 
doing,  he  would  give  mortal  offence  to  his  en- 
tertainers. It  was  ludicrous  in  the  extreme  to 
watch  the  poor  Frenchman's  attempts  at  im- 
parting to  his  features  a  smile  of  satisfaction, 
when  a  wooden  bowl  was  placed  before  him, 
filled  with  half  boiled  maize,  and  beside  it  one 
of  the  buffalo  ;ibs,  evidently  least  f\ivourcd  by 
the  fire,  as  it  was  scarcely  warmed  through, 
and  was  tough  and  stringy  as  shoe-leather. 
Alter  bestowing  upon  sundry  portions  of  it 
rnany  fruitless  attempts  at  mastication,  he  eim- 
trivod,  unperceived,  to  slip  what  remained  of 
the  meat  iiiio  the  pocket  of  his  jacket,  and  then 
laughed  witli  great  self  satisfaction  at  the  trick 
he  had  played  his  uncivilized  hosts. 

When  the  f.  .ist  was  concluded  In  Tamenund's 
lodge,  Reginald  desired  his  men  to  unpack  one 
«f  the  bales,  which  he  pointed  out,  and  to  spread 
its  contents  before  him  ;  the  savages  gathered 
round  the  coveted  and  glittering  objects,  with 
eager  but  silent  astonishment,  while  he  sepa- 
rated the  presents  which,  by  the  advice  of  Bap- 
tiste,  were  now  distributed  among  their  chiefs  : 
to  Tamenund  he  apportioned  a  large  blanket  of 
scarlet  cloth,  a  silver  mounted  pistol,  and  a  bas- 
ket containing  mi'rors,  beads,  and  trinkets,  for 
his  wives  and  daughters.    To  Mabega  a  bridle 


ornamented  with  beads,  several  pounds  of  to- 
bacco, powder,  and  lead,  a  fowling-piece,  and  a 
blanket  of  blue  woollen  stuff  The  features  of 
the  Usage  Chief  relaxed  into  a  grim  smile  of 
satislactiun  as  he  received  these  valuable  gifls, 
and  he  so  far  overcame  the  repulsive  sternness 
of  his  usual  character  as  to  seize  Reginald's 
hand,  and  to  tell  bim  that  he  was  a  great  chief, 
and  good  to  his  Indian  brothers.  The  other 
presents  having  been  distributed  among  the 
chiefs  and  braves,  according  to  their  rank,  the 
least  Wiis  broken  up  and  they  retired  to  their 
respective  lodges  ;  Jleginald,  Uaptiste,  and  M. 
Perrot,  being  accommodated  in  that  of  Tame- 
nund himself,  and  Bearskin,  with  the  rest  of 
the  white-men's  party,  in  those  lodges  which 
have  belore  been  mentioned  as  being  contiguous 
to  that  of  the  old  chief 

During  the  first  night  that  he  spent  in  his 
new  quarters,  the  excitement,  and  novelty  of 
the  srene,  banished  sleep  from  the  eyes  of  Regi- 
nald, and  finding  himsell  restless,  he  arose  half 
an  hour  before  daybreak,  to  enjoy  the  early 
freshness  of  the  morning  Throwing  his  rifle 
over  his  arm,  he  was  about  to  leave  the  lodge, 
when  Baptiste  touched  him,  and  inquired  in  a 
low  voice,  if  he  were  prepared  with  a  reply  in 
case  of  being  challenged  by  any  of  the  scouts 
around  the  encampment ;  with  some  shame  he 
confessed  he  had  forgotten  it,  and  the  guide 
then  instructed  him.  if  he  were  challenged,  to 
say  '•  Lenape  n'a  ki  Netii,"  or  "  I  am  Notis,  the 
friend  of  the  Delawares."  Being  thus  prepared, 
and  carrying  with  him  the  few  articles  requisit'. 
for  a  prairie  toilet,  he  stepped  out  into  the  open 
air.  Close  by  the  opening  of  the  lodge  he  saw 
a  tall  figure  stretched  on  the  grass,  enveloped 
in  a  bulfalo-robe,  the  hairy  fell  of  which  was 
silvered  with  the  heavy  night-dew ;  it  was  War- 
Eagle,  who  rarely  slept  in  lodge  or  tent,  and 
whose  quick  eye,  though  he  neither  moved  nor 
spoke,  discerned  hia  white  brother  in  a  mo- 
ment, although  the  latter  could  not  recognize  k  is 
friend. 

Reginald  pursued  his  way  through  the  en- 
campment to  its  extremity,  where  the  streamlet 
before  mentione'l  wound  its  course  among  the 
dells  and  hillocks  of  the  prairie,  until  it  reached 
the  larger  river  that  iiowed  through  the  distant 
forest.  After  following  iho  banks  of  the  stream 
fur  one  or  two  miles,  the  red  streaks  in  the 
eastern  horizon  gave  notice  of  day's  approach, 
and  observing  near  him  a  hill,  somewhat  more 
elevated  than  tlidse  by  which  it  was  surrounded, 
Reginald  climbed  to  its  top,  in  order  to  observe 
the  effect  of  sunrise  on  that  wild  and  pictures- 
que scene. 

To  the  westward,  the  undulations  of  the 
prairie,  wrapped  in  heavy  folds  of  mist,  rose  in 
confused  heaps  like  the  waves  of  a  boundless 
ocean :  to  the  south,  he  could  just  distinguish 
the  lodges  and  thti  smouldering  fires  ot  the  en- 
campment, whence,  at  intervals,  thei^i  fell  upon 
his  ear  mingled  and  indistinct  sounds,  disagree- 
able perhaps  in  themselves,  but  rendered  har- 
monious by  distance,  and  by  their  unison  with 
the  wildness  of  the  surrounding  objects  ;  while 
to  the  eastward  lay  a  dense  and  gloomy  range 
of  woods,  over  the  summits  of  whose  foliage 
the  dawning  sun  was  shedding  a  stream  of 
golden  light. 

Reginald  gazed  upon  the  scene  with  wonder 


THE  PRAintEBIRD. 


and  delight ;  nnd  nvory  momrnt  while  ho  gazod 
fialled  into  existence  richer  and  morn  varied 
beauties.  'I'lie  iiiiali  nnd  pxlialationM  rieinv 
from  the  plain  curled  theinselvti  into  a  thousand 
fnntastiu  Hhapes  around  the  points  and  projec- 
tions of  the  hills,  wliere  they  seenird  to  hang 
like  nianlles  which  the  Earth  had  cast  from 
her  bosom,  as  being  rendered  untie<'essary  hy 
the  appenruiu-)!  of  the  day  ;  swurin.'*  of  children 
and  ul  duMky  figures  began  to  emerge  from  the 
encampment,  and  troops  of  horses  to  crop  the 
pasture  on  the  distant  hills,  while  the  splendour 
of  the  sun,  now  risen  in  its  full  glory,  lit  up 
with  a  thousand  varying  hues  tho  eastern  ex- 
panse of  boundless  forest.  Reginald's  heart 
was  not  insensible  to  the  impressions  naturally 
excited  by  such  a  scene  ;  and  while  he  admired 
its  variegiiteil  beauties,  his  thoughts  were  raised 
in  adoration  to  that  Almighty  and  benelicent 
Being,  whose  temple  is  the  Elarth,  and  whose 
are  the  "rattle  u|Km  a  thousand  hills." 

Having  made  his  way  again  to  the  hanks  of 
the  stream,  and  found  a  s|iot  sheltered  by  alder 
and  poplar  treen,  he  bathed  and  made  his  morn- 
ing toilet ;  alter  which  he  returned  towards  the 
encampment,  his  body  refreshed  hy  his  bath, 
and  his  mind  attuned  to  high  and  inspiring 
thoughts  by  the  meditation  in  which  he  had 
been  engaged.  As  he  strolled  leisurely  along, 
he  observed  a  spot  where  the  trees  were  larger, 
and  the  shade  apparently  more  dense  than  the 
other  portions  of  the  valley  ;  and,  being  anxious 
to  make  himself  acquainted  with  all  the  local! 
ties  in  the  neighbourhood  of  his  new  home,  he 
followed  a  small  beaten  path,  which,  after  sun- 
dry windings  among  the  alders,  brought  him  to 
an  open  space  screened  on  three  sides  by  the 
bushes,  and  bounded  on  the  fourth  by  the  stream. 
Reginald  cast  his  eyes  around  this  pleasant  and 
secluded  spot,  until  they  rested  uptm  an  object 
that  rivctted  them  irresistibly.  It  was  a  female 
<igurc  seated  at  the  root  of  an  ancient  poplar, 
over  a  low  branch  of  which  one  arm  was  care- 
lessly thrown,  while  with  the  other  she  held  a 
book,  which  she  was  reading  with  such  fixed 
attention  as  to  be  altogether  unconscious  of 
Reginald's  approach.  Her  complexion  was 
dark,  but  clear  and  delicate,  and  the  rich  brown 
hair  which  fell  over  her  neek  and  shoulders, 
still  damp  and  glossy  from  her  morning  ablu- 
tions, was  parted  on  her  forehead  by  a  wreath 
of  wild  flowers  twined  from  among  those  which 
grew  around  the  spot ;  the  contour  of  her  figure, 
and  her  unstudied  attitude  of  repose,  realized 
the  classic  dreams  of  Nymph  and  Nereid,  while 
her  countenance  wore  an  expression  of  angelic 
loveliness,  such  as  Reginald  had  never  seen  or 
imagined. 

He  gazed — and  gazing  on  those  sweet  fea- 
tures, he  saw  the  red  full  lips  move  uncon- 
sciously, while  they  followed  the  subject  that 
absorbed  her  attention,  and  forgetfbl  that  he 
was  intruding  on  retirement,  he  waited,  en- 
tranced, until  those  downcast  eyes  should  be 
raised.  At  length  she  looked  up,  and  seeing 
the  figure  of  a  man  within  a  few  paces  of  her, 
she  sprang  to  her  feet  with  the  lightness  of  a 
startled  antelope,  and  darting  on  him  a  look  of 
mingled  surprise  and  reproof,  suppressed  the 
exclamation  of  alarm  that  rose  to  her  lips.  Re- 
ginald would  fain  have  addressed  the  lovely  be- 
ing before  him,  he  would  fain  have  excused  his 


unintended  intrusion  ;  but  the  words  died  upon 
liiM  lipn,  and  It  was  almoot  meehanically  that  he 
(liiired  his  hunting  cap,  and  stiMid  silent  and  un- 
covered before  her !  Recovering  from  the  mo- 
nientary  confiisiim,  she  advanced  a  step  towards- 
him,  and  with  an  ingenuous  blush  held  out  her 
hand,  saying  in  a  gentle  tune  of  inquiry,  and 
with  the  purest  accent,  '•  Nells,  my  bruther'a 
friend  !" 

"  The  same,  fair  creature,"  replied  Reginald, 
whose  wonder  and  admiration  were  stdl  mure 
excited  by  the  untaught  grace  and  dignity  of 
her  manner,  as  well  as  by  hearing  his  own 
tongue  so  sweetly  pronounced ;  "  but,  in  the 
name  of  Heaven,  who — what — whence  can  you 
be !"  Ulushing  more  deeply  at  the  animation 
and  eagerness  of  his  manner,  she  was  for  a  mo- 
ment silent,  when  he  continued,  striking  his 
hand  on  his  forehead  :— "  Uh-,  I  have  it,  f(Nd, 
tortoise,  that  I  was.  You  are  '  t'rairle  bird,' 
the  sister  of  whom  Wingenund  has  told  nie  so 
much."  Then,  gently  pressing  the  little  hand 
which  he  had  taken,  be  added,  "  Dear  Winge- 
nund I  ho  saved  my  life ;  his  sister  will  not  cim- 
sider  me  a  stranger  1" 

Aiiaiii  a  warmer  blush  mantled  on  the  cheek 
of  Prairie-bird,  as  she  replied,  "  You  ore  no 
stranger :  you  speak  of  VVingenund's  good  deed : 
you  are  silent  about  your  own !  Vou  drew 
War-Eagle  from  the  deep  and  swift  waters. 
I  httvo  heard  it  all,  and  have  often  winlied  to  see 
you  and  thank  you  myself"  There  was  a  mod- 
est simplicity  in  her  manner  as  she  uttered 
these  few  words  that  conlirmed  the  impression 
made  on  Reginald  by  the  first  glimpse  of  her 
lovely  form  and  features  ;  but  beyond  this  there 
was  something  in  the  tone  of  her  voice  that 
found  its  way  direct  to  his  heart ;  it  fell  upon 
his  ear  like  an  old  familiar  strain  of  music,  and 
he  felt  unwilling  to  break  the  silence  that  fol- 
lowed its  closing  accents. 

It  is  not  our  province,  in  a  simple  narrative 
of  this  kind,  to  discuss  the  oft-disputed  queu- 
tion,  whether  love  at  first  sight  deserves  the 
name  of  love;  whether  it  is  merely  a  passing 
emotion,  which,  though  apparantly  strong,  a 
brief  lapse  of  time  may  efface ;  or,  whether 
there  be  really  secret  irresistible  natural  impul- 
ses, hy  which  two  human  beings,  who  meet  to- 
gether for  the  first  time,  feel  as  if  they  had 
known  and  loved  each  other  for  years,  and  as 
if  the  early  cherished  visions  of  fancy,  the  aspi- 
rations of  hope,  the  creations  of  imagination, 
the  secret,  undefined  lojigings  of  the  heart,  were 
all  at  once  embodied  and  realized.*  Wo  are  in- 
clined to  believe  that,  although  not  frequent, 
instances  sometimes  occur  of  this  instinctive 
sympathy  and  attraction,  and  that,  when  they 
do  so,  the  tree  of  affection,  (like  the  fabled 
palm  at  the  touch  of  the  Genius'  wand,)  starts 
into  immediate  luxuriance  of  flower  and  foliage, 
striking  its  tenacious  roots  far  into  the  kindly 
soil,  destined  thenceforward  to  become  the  nur- 
ture of  its  verdant  youth,  the  support  of  its  ma- 
ture strength,  and  at  length  the  resting-place  of 
its  leafless  and  time-stricken  decay. 

Such  seemed  to  he  the  case  with  Reginald 
and  Prairie-bird,  for  as  they  looked  one  at  the 
other,  each  was  unconsciously  occupied  with 
teeming  thoughts  that  neither  could  define  nor 


*  See  i^chlller'i "  Bride  of  If  esilna.' 


TIIFi    PRAIRIR-niRD. 


6» 


s  AM  upon 
iiilly  that  he 
iKiit  and  uii- 
oru  I  ho  mo- 
imp  lowurds 
lielit  out  her 
inquiry,  and 
ly  bruihor'a 

)d  Reginald, 
re  null  inure 
[1  digiiiiy  uf 
ng  hia  uwn 
'  but,  in  the 
inue  oan  you 
le  aniumliun 
as  for  a  mo- 
airiking  his 
mve  it,  fcMil, 
I'rairif  bird,' 
a  told  niM  8i> 
e  littlti  hand 
Dear  Winge- 
will  mil  con- 
on  the  cheek 
'YdU  are  no 
I'g  good  dred : 
!     You  drew 
swift  watera. 
wi^lipd  to  see 
re  waa  a  mod- 
she  uttered 
10  iinpreasion 
liinpse  of  her 
ond  tliia  there 
er  voice  that 
;  it  fell  upon 
of  music,  and 
snce  that  ful- 

nple  narrative 
lisputed  queu- 

deserves  tlie 
ely  a  pasaing 
itly  atrong,  a 

or,  whether 
latural  impul- 
who  meet  to- 
s  if  they  had 
years,  and  as 
mcy,  the  aspi- 

imagination, 

he  heart,  were 

We  are  in- 

not  frequent, 
(lis  instinctive 
at,  when  they 
IP   the   fabled 

wand,)  starts 
er  and  foliage, 
no  the  kindly 
■come  the  nur- 
port  of  its  nia- 
sstingplace  of 

ly. 

with  Reginall 
ed  one  al  the 
jccupied  with 
uld  define  nor 


) 


i 


expreM,  and  holh  felt  relieved  at  hearing  ap- 

froaching  loolatepa  and  the  voice  of  the  lilack 
'uther,  who  called  out  in  F^nglinh, 

"(Ninie,  my  child,  I  have  allowed  you  full 
time  thiMmurnmg;  we  will  return  lo  the  camp" 
Ah  he  spoki^  hia  eye  fell  upon  Keginald,  and  he 
added,  eiiurieoiisly,  "  You  have  been  early 
abroad,  young  air." 

"  I  have,"  replied  Reginald.  "  I  went  to  the 
top  of  yonder  heights  to  aee  the  aiinriae,  and 
was  amply  repaid  by  the  beauty  of  the  acene ; 
on  my  return,  I  wandered  accidentally  into  thia 
secluded  spot,  nnd  trust  that  my  intrusion  has 
been  forgiven." 

■•  I  believe  that  my  dear  child  and  pupil  would 
forgive  a  greater  oM'eitee  than  that,  in  one  who 
haa  shown  s<i  much  kindnexs  to  her  brothers," 
replied  the  Miaaiimary,  smiling;  and  he  added, 
in  a  low  voice,  aildressing  the  Prairie-bird  in 
his  own  language,  "  Indeed,  my  child,  I  think  he 
deserves  our  friendly  welcome  ;  for,  unless  his 
ouiiiiienaiiee  strongly  lielies  his  character,  it  ex- 
presses all  those  good  qualities  which  Winge- 
nund  taught  us  to  expect." 

"  .Sliiy,  sir,"  said  Reginald,  colouring  highly  ; 
"let  nie  not  participate  wi.hout  your  knowledge, 
in  your  communications  to  Prnirie-bird.  1  have 
travelled  much  in  Germany,  and  the  language 
is  familiar  to  me." 

"  Then,  my  young  friend,"  said  Paul  Miiller. 
taking  his  hand  kindly,  "you  have  only  learned 
from  what  I  said,  how  hard  a  taok  you  will  have 
to  fulfil  the  expectations  that  Wingenund  has 
led  us  to  entertain." 

"  1  can  promise  nothing,"  replied  Reginald, 
glancing  towards  the  maiden,  "  hut  a  true 
tongue,  a  reaily  hand,  and  an  honest  heart ;  if 
these  can  servo  my  friend's  sister,  methinks 
she  may  expect  them  without  being  disappoint- 
ed." 

The  words  in  themselves  were  nothing  re- 
markable, hut  there  was  an  earnest  fe«'ling  in 
the  tone  in  which  they  were  spoken  that  made 
Prairie-bird's  heart  heat  quicker;  she  answer- 
ed him  by  a  l(H>k.  hut  said  nothing.  Wonder- 
ful is  the  expression,  the  mngio  eloquence  of 
the  human  eye,  and  yet  how  is  its  power  ten- 
fold increased  when  the  rays  of  its  glance  pass 
through  the  atmosphere  even  of  dawning  love. 
Reginald  longed  to  know  whence  and  who  she 
could  he,  this  child  of  the  wilderness,  who  had 
so  suddenly,  so  irresistibly,  engaged  his  feel- 
ings; above  all  he  longed  to  learn  whether  her 
heart  and  affections  were  free,  and  that  single 
look,  translated  by  the  sanguine  self-partiality 
of  love,  made  him  internally  exclaim,  "  Her 
heart  is  not  another's  !"  Whether  Ms  conjec- 
ture proved  correct  the  after  course  of  »his  tale 
will  show,  meanwhile  we  cannot  forbear  our 
admiration  at  the  marvellous  rapidity  v/i'.h 
which  our  hero,  at  his  first  interview  wi(b 
Prairie-bird  settled  this  point  to  his  own  s&fis- 
faction.  The  little  party  now  strolle.i  towards 
the  camp,  and  as  they  went,  Reginald,  seeing 
that  Prairie-bird  still  held  in  her  hand  the  book 
that  he  had  seen  her  peruse  with  so  much  at- 
tention, said, 

"  May  I  inquire  the  subject  of  your  studies 
this  morning  1" 

"  Certainly,"  she  replied,  with  grave  and 
sweet  simplicity  ;  "  it  is  the  subject  of  my  study 
every  morning ;  the  book  was  givea  me  by  my 


dear  father  and  inalruotor  now  by  my  side.  I 
havu  much  to  thank  him  for ;  all  I  know,  all  I 
enjiiy,  almost  all  I  leel,  hut  most  of  all  for  this 
b<Nik,  which  he  has  taught  me  to  love,  and  in 
some  degree  to  understand." 

As  she  spoke  she  placed  in  Reginald's  hand 
a  small  copy  of  l.iithur's  translatmn  of  the  Bi- 
ble; in  the  fly-leaf  heforo  the  title  page  waH 
writtcMi,  "Oiven  to  Prairiehird  by  her  loving 
father  and  instructor,  Paul  Mulier."  Reginald 
read  this  iiiBcription  half  aloud,  repeating  to 
himself  the  words  "  Mulier,"  "  tiither,"  and 
coupling  them  with  the  strange  enigmas  for- 
merly uttered  by  Wingenund  respecting  the 
origin  of  Prairie-bird,  he  was  lost  in  conjecture 
as  to  th(  ir  meaning. 

"  I  see  your  ditflculty,"  said  the  Missionary  ; 
"you  do  not  understand  how  she  can  call  Win- 
genund and  War-Kagle  brothers,  and  me  fa- 
ther. In  truth,  she  has  from  her  earliest  child- 
homl  been  brought  up  by  Tamenund  as  hi» 
daughter,  and  as  I  reside  chiefly  with  this  Dela- 
ware band,  f  have  made  it  my  constant  occupa- 
tion and  pleasure  to  give  hei  such  instruction 
as  my  humble  means  admit ;  she  has  been  en- 
trusle<l  vt  us  by  the  mysteriou  ■  decrees  of  Pro- 
vident. ,  and  though  the  blood  of  neither  flow» 
in  her  veins,  Tanieiiuiul  and  I  have,  according 
to  our  respective  offices,  used  our  best  endea 
vuurs  to  supply  (he  pit  e  of  natural  parents.' 

"  Dear,  'ear  father ''  said  Prairie-bird,  [iress- 
ing  his  liaiid  to  her  ..^,  and  loir  ..g  up  m  his 
face  with  tearful  eyes,  "  you  are  A  have  been 
everything  to  me,  instructor  ("c^^njrter,  guide, 
and  father !  My  Indian  fati  <  r  ton,  and  my 
brothers  are  all  kin'l  and  loving  to  me.  I  I.  iva 
read  in  the  books  i' .  i  i  u  have  lent  me  :..•>,/ 
tales  and  historiei-  of  i.nkindness  and  hatred 
between  parents  .  .d  children,  among  nations 
enlightened  and  civilized.  I  have  had  every 
wish  gratified  before  expressed,  and  every  com- 
fort provided.  What  could  a  father  do  for  a 
child,  that  you  have  not  done  for  me !" 

As  she  spoke  she  looked  up  in  the  Mission- 
ary's fane  with  a  countenance  so  beaming  with' 
full  affection,  that  :  le  old  man  pressed  her  in 
his  arms,  and  kissing  her  forehead,  muttered 
over  her  a  blessing  that  he  was  too  much  moved 
to  pronounce  aloud;  after  a  pause  of  a  few 
minutes,  he  said  to  Reginahl,  with  his  usual 
benevolent  smile,  "  We  only  know  you  yet  by 
your  Indian  name  of  'Netis' — how  are  you 
called  in  the  States  ?  We  inquired  of  War-eagle 
and  Wingenund,  hut  they  either  did  not  remem- 
b.  .>'  "ould  not  pronounce  your  name  V 
"  ;<inald  Brandon,"  replied  our  hero. 

P>^>irie-bird  started,  and  abruptly  said,  "Agaiit, 
again  ;  say  it  once  mort;  V 

Reginald  repeated  it,  and  she  pronounced  tho 
first  name  slowly  after  him,  pressir.g  her  hand 
ufxin  her  forehead,  and  with  her  eye  fixed  on 
vacancy,  while  broken  exclamations  came  fron» 
his  lips 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of,  dear  child  1"  said 
theMissionary,  somewhat  surprised  and  alarmed 
by  her  manner 

"  Nothing,  dear  Father,"  she  replied,  with  ft 
faint  smile ;  "  it  was  a  dream,  a  strange  dream 
which  that  name  recalled  and  confused  my 
head ;  we  are  no\"  close  to  the  camp,  I  will  go 
in  and  rest  awhile ;  perhaps  you  may  like  to 
talk  more  with  Ne — I  mean,"  she  added  hesi- 


64 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRt). 


tating,  "  with  Reginald."  So  saying,  and  salu- 
ting them  with  that  natural  grace  which  be- 
longed to  all  her  movements,  she  withdrew 
towards  the  camp,  and  Ueginaki's  eyes  followed 
her  retreating  figure  until  it  was  lost  behind  the 
eanvass-fulds  that  protected  thu  opening  to  her 
tent.  ,    . 


'  CHAPTER  XX. 

Begtn&ld  holdi  a  convemtion  with  the  roiiiioomrjr. 

Rboinald  still  kept  his  eyes  on  the  opening 
through  which  Prairie-bird  had  disappeared  into 
Ihe  tent,  as  though  they  could  have  pierced 
through  the  canvass  that  concealed  from  his 
view  its  lovely  inhabitant :  his  feelings  were  in 
a  state  of  confusion  and  excitement,  altogether 
Dew  to  him ;  for  if,  in  his  European  travels,  he 
bad  paid  a  passing  tribute  of  admiration  to  the 
beauties  who  had  crossed  his  path,  and  whom 
his  remarkable  personal  advantages  had  ren- 
dered by  no  means  insensible  to  his  homage, 
the  surface  only  of  his  heart  had  been  touched, 
whereas  now  its  deepest  fountains  were  stirred, 
and  the  troubled  waters  gushed  forth  with  over- 
whelming force. 

He  was  recalled  to  himself  by  the  voice  of 
the  missionary,  who,  without  appearing  to  no- 
tice his  abstraction,  said, "  My  son,  if  you  choose 
that  we  should  prolong  our  walk,  I  am  ready 
to  accompany  you."  If  the  truth  must  be  told, 
Reginald  could  at  that  moment  scarcely  endure 
the  presence  of  any  human  being :  he  fo\t  an 
impulse  to  rush  into  the  woods,  or  over  the 
plain,  and  to  pour  forth  in  solitude  the  torrent 
of  feelings  by  which  he  was  oppressed ;  but  he 
controlled  himself,  not  only  because  he  really 
felt  a  respect  for  the  good  missionary,  hut  also 
because  he  hoped  through  him  to  obtain  some 
information  respecting  the  extraordinary  being 
who  had  taken  such  sudden  possession  of  his 
thoughts ;  ho  replied,  therefore,  that  he  would 
willingly  accompany  him,  and  they  took  their 
way  together  along  the  banks  of  the  streamlet, 
alternately  observing  on  the  scenery  and  sur- 
rounding objects. 

This  desultory  conversation  did  not  long  suit 
the  eager  and  straightforward  charaeter  of  Re- 
ginald Brandon ;  and  he  changed  it  by  abruptly 
inquiring  of  his  companion,  whether  he  knew 
anything  of  the  history  ant  parentage  of  Prairie- 
bird. 

I  "Not  much,"  replied  Paul  Muller,  smiling; 
"  she  was  with  this  band  of  Delawares  when  I 
first  came  to  reside  among  them ;  if  any  one 
knows  her  history  it  must  be  Tnmenund ;  but 
he  keeps  it  a  profound  secret,  and  gives  out 
among  the  tribe  that  she  was  sent  to  him  by 
the  Great  Spirit,  and  that  as  long  as  she  re- 
luains  with  the  band  they  will  be  successful  in 
hunting  and  in  war." 

"  But  how,"  inquired  Reginald, "  can  he  make 
such  a  tale  pass  current  among  a  people  who 
are  well  known  to  consider  the  female  sex  in 
so  inferior  and  degraded  a  light  V 

"  He  has  effected  it,"  replied  the  missionary, 
"partly  by  accident,  partly  by  her  extraordinary 
beauty  and  endowments,  and  partly,  I  must  own, 
by  my  assistance,  which  I  have  given  because 
I  thereby  ensured  to  ber  the  kindest  and  most 


respectful  treatment,  and  also  endeavoured, 
under  God's  blessing,  to  make  her  instrumental 
in  sowing  the  seed  of  His  truth  among  these 
benighted  savages." 

"  Let  me  understand  this  mbre  in  detail,"  said 
Reginald,  "if  the  narration  does  not  trouble 
you." 

"  Her  first  appearance  among  the  Delawares, 
as  they  have  told  me,"  said  the  missionary,  was 
as  follows : — "  Their  prophet,  or  great  medicine 
man,  dreamed  that  under  a  certain  tree  was  de- 
posited a  treasure  that  should  enrich  the  tribe 
and  render  them  fortunate :  a  party  was  sent 
by  order  of  the  chief  to  search  the  spot  indica- 
ted, and  on  their  arrival  they  found  a  female 
child  wrapped  in  a  covering  of  beaver  skin,  and 
reposing  on  a  couch  of  Turkey  of  feathers; 
these  creatures  being  supposed  to  preside  pecu- 
liarly over  the  fate  of  the  Delawares,  they 
brought  back  tho  child  with  great  ceremony  to 
the  village,  where  they  placed  her  under  the 
care  of  the  chief;  set  apart  a  tent  or  lodge  for 
her  own  peculiar  me,  and  ever  since  that  time 
have  continued  to  take  every  care  of  hi;r  com- 
fort and  safety."  # 

"I  suppose,"  interrupted  Reginald,  "the 
dream  of  the  great  medicine,  and  all  its  accom- 
paniments, were  secretly  arranged  between  him 
and  the  chief!" 

"Probably  they  were,"  replied  Paul;  "but 
you  must  beware  how  you  say  as  much  to  any 
Delaware;  if  you  did  not  risk  your  life,^you 
would  give  mortal  offence.  After  all,  an  impo- 
sition that  has  resulted  in  harm  to  no  one,  and 
in  so  much  good  to  an  interesting  and  unpro- 
tected creature,  may  be  forgiven." 

"  Indeed  I  will  not  gainsay  it,"  replied  our 
hero ;  "  pray  continue  your  naj-rative." 

"My  saored  otiice,  and  the  kindly  feeling 
entertained  towards  me  by  these  Indians,  gave 
me  frequent  opportunities  of  seeing  and  con- 
versing with  Olitipa,  or  the  '  Prairie-bird  ;'  and 
I  found  in  her  such  an  amiable  disposition,  and 
so  quick  an  apprehension,  that  I  gave  my  best 
attention  to  the  cultivation  of  talents,  which 
might,  I  hoped,  some  day  produce  a  harvest  of 
usefulness.  In  reading,  writing,  and  in  music, 
she  needed  but  little  instruction ;  I  furnished 
her  from  time  to  time  with  books,  and  paper, 
and  pencils;  an  old  Spanish  guitar,  probably 
taken  from  some  of  the  dwellings  of  that  people 
in  Missouri,  enabled  her  to  practise  simple 
melodies,  and  you  would  be  surprised  at  the 
sweetness  with  which  she  now  sings  words, 
strung  together  by  herself  in  English  and  Ger- 
man, and  also  in  the  Delaware  tongue,  adapting 
them  to  wild  airs,  either  such  as  she  hears 
among  the  Indians,  or  invents  herself;  I  took 
especial  pains  to  instruct  her  in  the  practical 
elements  of  a  science  that  my  long  residence 
among  the  different  tribes  has  rendered  neces- 
sary and  familiar  to  me, — I  mean  that  of  medi- 
cine, as  connected  with  the  rude  botany  of  the 
woods  and  prairies ;  and  so  well  has  she  profit- 
ed by  my  instruction,  and  by  her  own  perseve 
ring  researches,  that  there  is  scarcely  a  tree,  o\ 
gum,  or  herb  possessing  any  sanatory  properties 
which  she  does  not  know  and  apply  to  the  re- 
lief of  those  around  her. 

"  Indeed,"  said  Reginald,  laughing ;  "  I  had 
not  expected  to  find  this  last  among  the  accom- 
plishnaents  of  Prairie-bird." 


tHE  PRAlRlti-BIRD. 


6S 


ttfhtion  of  these  in  favour  of 
am  reading  of  the  lightest 


"You  were  mistaken  then,"  replied  Paul 
Miiller ;  "  nay,  more ;  I  fear  that,  in  your  esti- 
nate  of  what  are  usually  termed  female  accom- 
plishments, you  have  been  accustomed  to  lay 
too  much  stress  on  those  which  are  light  or  tri- 
lling, and  too  little  on  those  which  are  useful 
and  properly  feminine ;  even  in  settled  and  civ- 
ilized countries  the  most  grievous  levers  and 
ailments  to  which  we  are  subject,  require  the 
ministration  of  a  female  nurse;  can  it  be  then 
unreasonable  that  we  should  endeavour  to  min- 
gle, in  their  education,  some  knowledge  of  the 
remedies  which  they  may  be  called  upon  to  ad- 
minister, and  of  the  bodily  ills  which  it  is  to  be 
their  province  to  alleviate  1" 

"  You  are  right,"  answered  Reginald,  mod- 
estly ;  "  and  I  entreat  your  pardon  for  the  hasty 
levity  with  which- 1  spoke  on  the  subject.  I  am 
well  aware  that,  in  olden  times,  no  young  wom- 
an's education  was  held  to  be  complete  without 
some  knowledge  both  of  the  culinary  and  heal- 
ing arts;  and  I  much  doubt  whether  society 
has  not  suffered  from  their  having  altogether 
abandoned  the  cult  '^ 
singing,  dancing,  a 
kind." 

"  It  is  the  character  of  the  artifioj?.:  state  to 
which  society  is  fast  verging,"  replied  Paul ; 
"  to  prefer  accomplishments  to  qualities,  orna- 
ment to  usefulness,  luxury  to  comfort,  tinsel  to 
gold ;  setting  aside  the  consideration  of  a  future 
state,  this  system  might  be  well  enough,  if  the 
drawing-room,  the  theatre,  and  the  ball,  were 
the  sum  of  human  life ;  but  it  is  ill  calculated  to 
render  man  dignified  in  his  character,  and  use- 
ful to  his  fellow-creatures,  or  woman  what  she 
ought  to  be, — the  comfort,  the  solace,  the  orna- 
ment of  home." 

"  These  observations  may  be  true  as  regards 
England  or  France,"  replied  Reginald :  "  but 
you  surely  would  not  apply  them  to  our  coun- 
try 1" 

•'  To  a  certain  extent,  I  do,"  answered  the 
missionary.  '*  I  have  been  now  thirty  years  on 
this  continent,  and  have  observed  that,  as  colo- 
nists, the  Americans  have  been  very  faithful 
imitators  of  these  defects  in  their  mother  coun- 
try ;  I  am  not  sure  that  they  will  be  rendered 
less  so  by  their  political  emancipation." 

The  conversation  was  now  straying  rather 
ton  far  from  the  subject  to  which  Reginald  de- 
sired to  confine  it ;  waving,  therefore,  all  reply 
to  the  missionary's  last  observation,  he  said, 
"  If  I  understood  you  aright,  there  were,  beyond 
these  studies  and  accomplishments  of  Prairie- 
bird,  some  other  means  employed  by  you,  to 
give  and  preserve  to  her  the  extraordinary  in- 
fluence which  you  say  that  she  possesses  over 
tiie  Indians." 

"  There  were,"  replied  Paul  Miiller :  "  among 
others,  I  enabled  her  to  vaccinate  most  of  the 
children  in  this  band,  by  which  means  they  es- 
caped the  fatal  effects  of  a  disorder,  that  has 
committed  dreadful  ravages  among  the  sur- 
rounding tribes;  and  I  have  instructed  her  in 
some  of  the  elementary  calculations  of  astrono- 
my ;  owing  to  which  they  look  upon  her  as  a 
superior  being,  commissioned  by  the  Great 
Spirit  to  live  among  them,  and  to  do  them  good ; 
thus  her  person  is  safe,  and  her  tent  as  sacred 
from  intrusion  as  the  great  medicine  lodge ;  I 
am  allowed  to  occupy  a  compartment  in  it, 
E 


where  I  keep  our  little  stores  of  books  and 
medicines,  and  she  goes  about  the  camp  on 
her  errands  of  benevolence,  followed  by  the 
attachment  and  veneration  of  all  classes  and 
ages !" 

"Happy  existence?"  exclaimed  Reginald; 
"and  yet,"  he  added,  musing;  "she  cannot, 
surely,  be  doomed  through  life  to  waste  such 
sweetness  on  an  air  so  desert  I" 

"  I  know  not,"  answered  the  missionary. 
"  God's  purposes  are  mysterious,  and  the  in- 
struments that  he  chooses  for  effecting  them, 
various  as  the  flowers  on  the  prairie.  Many  an 
Indian  warrior  has  that  sweet  child  turned  from 
the  path  of  blood,  more  than  one  uplifted  toma- 
hawk has  fallen  harmless  at  the  voice  of  her  en- 
treaty ;  nay,  I  have  reason  to  hope  that  in  Win- 
genund,  and  in  several  others  of  the  tribe,  she 
has  partially  uprooted  the  weeds  of  hatred  and 
revenge,  and  sown,  in  their  stead,  the  seeds  of 
Gospel  truth.  Surely,  Reginald  Brandon,  you 
would  not  call  such  an  existence  wasted  1" 

"That  would  I  not,  indeed,"  replied  the 
young  man,  with  emphasis ;  "  it  is  an  angel's  of- 
fice !"  he  added,  inaudibly, "  and  it  is  performed 
by  an  angel !" 

Although  he  could  have  talked,  or  listened,  on 
the  subject  of  the  Prairie-bird  fur  hours  togeth- 
er, Reginald  began  already  to  feel  that  sensitive 
reserve  respecting  the  mention  of  her  name 
to  another  which  always  accompanies  even  the 
earliest  dawnings  of  love;  and  he  turned  the 
conversation  by  Inquiring  of  the  venerable  mis- 
sionary, whether  he  would  kindly  communicate 
something  of  hi^  own  history ;  and  explain  how 
he  had  come  from  so  remote  a  distance  to  pass 
the  evening  of  life  among  the  Indians. 

"  The  tale  is  very  brief,  and  the  motives  very 
simple.  I  was  born  in  Germany,  and  having 
early  embraced  the  tenets  of  the  United  Breth- 
ren, of  whom  you  have  probably  heard  in  that 
country  under  the  name  of  '  Herrn-huter,'  I  re- 
ceived a  pressing  invitation  from  Heckewalder, 
then  in  England,  to  join  him  in  his  projected 
missionary  journey  to  North  America.  I  gladly 
accepted  the  offer,  and  af\er  a  short  stay  in 
London,  embarked  with  that  learned  and  amia- 
ble man, — who  soon  became  what  he  now  is,— 
the  nearest  and  dearest  friend  I  have  on  earth, 
— and  I  placed  myself  under  his  guidance  in  the 
prosecution  of  the  grand  objects  of  our  under- 
taking, which  were  these: — to  endeavour  to 
convert  the  Indian  nations  to  Christianity,  not 
as  the  Spaniards  had  pretended  to  attempt,  by 
lire,  and  sword,  and  violence,  but  by  going  un- 
armed and  peaceably  among  them,  studying 
their  languages,  characters,  and  history;  and 
while  showing  in  our  own  persons  an  example 
of  piety  and  self-denial,  to  eradicate  patiently 
the  more  noxious  plants  from  their  moral  con- 
stitution, and  to  mould  such  as  were  good  and 
wholesome  to  the  purposes  of  religious  truth. 
God  he  praised,  our  labours  have  not  been  alto- 
gether without  effect ;  but  1  blush  for  my  white 
l)rcthren  when  I  confess  that  the  greatest  ob- 
st.icle  to  our  success  has  been  found  in  the  vi- 
ces,  the  open  profligacy,  the  violence,  and  the 
cruelty  of  those  who  have  called  themselves 
Christians.  Heckewalder  has  confined  his  ex- 
ertions chiefly  to  the  Indians  remaining  in  Penn- 
sylvania and  the  Western  territory,  mine  have 
becii  mostly  employed  among  the  wandering 


■  I. : 


i  '-■■   I 


66 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


and  wji^er  tribes  who  inhabit  this  remote  and 
bouirtfless  region." 

"  I  have  often  heard  your  pious  friend's 
name,"  said  Reginald  ;  "  he  enjoys  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  the  most  eminent  Indian  linguist 
in  our  country,  and  he  is  supposed  to  know  the 
Delaware  language  as  well  as  his  own." 

"  He  is  indeed,"  said  Paul,  "  the  most  skilful 
and  successful  labourer  in  this  rude,  but  not  un- 
fruitful vineyard ;  now  and  then,  at  remote  in- 
tervals, I  contrive,  by  means  of  some  returning 
hunter  or  Indian  agent,  to  communicate  with 
him,  and  his  letters  always  afford  me  matter  of 
consolation  and  encouragement ;  though  I  was 
much  cast  down  when  he  announced  to  me  the 
cruel  and  wanton  massacre  of  his  Indian  flock 
near  the  banks  of  the  Ohio." 

"  I  have  heard  of  it,"  replied  Reginald ;  "  I 
regret  to  say  that  the  outrage  was  committed 
not  very  far  from  the  spot  where  ray  father 
lives." 

"  Do  you  live  in  that  neighbourhood  7"  ex- 
claimed the  missionary,  suddenly  catching  his 
arm ;  "  then  you  may,  perhaps — but  no,  it  can- 
not be,"  he  muttered  to  himself  "  This  youth 
can  know  nothing  of  it." 

"  My  honoured  friend,"  replied  Reginald,  co- 
louring  at  the  idea  suggested  by  the  words  which 
he  had  overheard.  "  I  trust  you  do  not  believe 
that  my  father  or  any  of  my  kindred  had  a  share 
in  those  atrocities !" 

"  Ycu  misunderstood  me  altogether,  I  assure 
you,"  answered  the  missionary ;  "  my  exclama- 
tion had  reference  to  another  subject.  But  I 
see  War-Eagle  coming  this  way ;  probably  he 
is  bent  upon  some  hunting  excursion  in  which 
you  may  wish  to  be  his  companion." 

"I  shall  gladly  do  so,"  replied  Reginald,  "as 
soon  as  I  have  breakfasted ;  my  faithful  follow, 
er,  Pcrrot,  desired  very  much  that  I  should  taste 
some  collops  of  venison,  which  he  said  that  he 
could  dress  in  a  style  somewhat  superior  to  that 
of  the  Indian  cookery.  Will  you  share  them 
with  me  1" 

The  missionary  excused  himself,  as  he  had 
already  taken  his  morning  meal,  and  was  about 
to  return  to  the  tent  of  Prairie-bird. 

Reginald  assured  the  good  man  of  the  pleas- 
ure which  he  had  found  in  his  conversation,  and 
expressed  a  hope  that  he  would  be  enabled  soon 
to  enjoy  it  again,  as  there  was  much  informa- 
tion respecting  the  habits,.religion,  and  charac- 
ter of  the  different  Indian  tribes  which  he  felt 
anxious  to  acquire,  and  which  none  could  be 
better  able  to  communicate. 

"  Whatever  instruction  or  information  I  may 
have  collected  during  my  residence  among  them, 
is  freely  at  your  service,"  replied  Paul  Miiller; 
"  and  if  you  find  yourself  in  any  difficulty  or  em- 
barro  raent  where  my  advice  can  be  of  use,  you 
may  always  command  it.  You  know,"  he  add- 
ed, smiling,  "they  consider  me  great  medicine, 
and  thus  I  am  able  to  say  and  do  many  things 
among  them  which  would  not  be  permitted  in 
another  white  man."  So  saying,  he  shook  hands 
with  Reginald,  and  returned  slowly  towards  the 
encampment. 

War-Eagle  now  came  up,  and  greeting  his 
friend  with  his  usual  cordiality,  inquired  whether 
he  Would  accompany  him  in  the  chase  of  the  elk, 
herds  of  which  had  been  seen  at  no  great  dis- 
tance.   Reginald  acceded  to  the  proposal,  and. 


having  hastily  despatched  the  collops  prepared 
by  Perrot,  the  two  friends  left  the  village  on 
foot,  and  took  their  way  towards  the  timber  in 
the  valley. 

The  day  was  hot,  and  the  speed  at  which  the 
iigile  Indian  unconsciously  strode  along,  would 
have  soon  discomfited  a  less  active  pei'.estrian 
than  Reginald ;  hut  having  been  well  reasoned 
in  his  hunting  excursions  with  Baptis'.e,  he  found 
no  diffieulty  in  keeping  pace  with  his  friend,  and 
amused  himself  as  they  went,  by  asking  him  a 
variety  of  questions  respecting  the  country,  the 
tribe,  and  its  language,  to  all  of  which  War-^ 
Eagle  replied  with  much  intcilligence  and  can- 
dour. 

As  Reginald  had  not  seen  Wingenund,  he 
asked  his  companion  now  it  happened  that  the 
youth  did  not  accompany  them.  "  He  is  gone," 
replied  War-Eagle,  "to  bring  turkeys  to  the 
camp." 

"  Does  he  shoot  them  Y'  inquired  Reginald. 

"  No,  he  takes  them — my  white  brother  shalt 
see ;  it  is  not  far  from  the  Elk  Path." 

When  they  reached  the  >^|ded  b(Atom,  War- 
Eagle  struck  into  a  small  MKk  which  seemed 
to  have  been  made  by  a  streamlet  in  spring,  and, 
having  followed  it  for  about  a  mile,  they  came 
to  a  more  open  woodland  scene,  where  the  In- 
dian pointed,  as  they  passed  along,  to  scattered 
feathers  and  foot- tracks  of  turkeys  in  abundance. 
They  had  not  proceeded  far,  when  he  uttered  a 
low  exclamation  of  surprise  as  he  discovered 
Wingenund  stretched  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  with 
his  eyes  busily  fixed  upon  something  which  he 
held  in  his  hand,  and  which  so  riveted  his  at- 
tention that  he  was  not  aware  of  their  approach. 
Beside  him  lay  two  old  and  two  young  turkeys 
which  he  had  caught  and  killed  ;  the  friends  had 
not  looked  at  him  many  seconds,  before  he  raised 
his  eyes  and  perceived  them  ;  starting  to  his  feet, 
he  made  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  conceal  that 
which  he  had  been  holding  in  his  hand,  which, 
was,  in  fact,  a  sheet  of  coarse  white  paper. 
Reginald  drew  near  and  said  to  him,  "Come,. 
Wingenund,  you  must  show  Netis  what  you  hold 
in  your  hand ;  I  am  sure  it  is  no  harm,  and  if  it 
is  a  secret,  I  will  keep  it." 

Wingenund,  in  some  confusion,  handed  the 
scroll  to  Reginald,  who  saw  at  the  first  glance 
that  it  was  a  fragment  of  nn  elementary  vocabu- 
lary of  Delaware  and  English  words,  written  in 
a  free,  bold  character ;  he  ran  his  eye  over  the 
paper  which  contained  chiefly  phrases  of  the 
most  simple  kind,  such  as  "N'menne,  I  drink," 
"  N'ani  pa  trt,  I  stand,"  "  Tokelan,  it  rains,"^ 
"  Loo,  true,"  "  Yuni,  this,"  •'  Na-ni,  that,"  &c., 
&.C. ;  and  a  smile  came  over  his  features  wheit 
his  eye  met  his  own  name,  "  Netis,"  with  its 
translation,  "  dear  friend."  Below  this  he  read, 
"  N'qutI,"  Nisha,  Nacha,  Newo,  and  a  succes- 
sion of  single  words,  which  he  rightly  conjec- 
tured to  be  numerals,  1,  2,  3,  4,  Sec,  and  at  the 
bottom  of  the  page  was  a  long  sentence  in  the 
Lenape  tongue,  which  began  as  follows :  "  Ki 
wetochcmelcnk  talU  epian  awaasagame,  <5cc."— 
"What  is  this  last  sentence,  Wingenund!"  in- 
quired Reginald. 

"  It  is  the  prayer,"  replied  the  youth,  "  that 
the  Good  Spirit  taught  the  white  men  to  say, 
when  he  came  to  live  among  them." 

"  And  who  wrote  all  these  words  for  you  1" 

"  Prairie-bird  wrote  them,  and  every  day  she 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


teaches  me  to  understand  the  maiks  on  the 
paper." 

Reginald's  eyes  strayed  unconsciously  to  thiil 
part  of  the  sheet  where  he  had  seen  his  own 
name  written  by  the  Prairie-bird's  hand.  '•  Hap- 
py boy  !"  he  mentally  ejaculated,  "  to  sit  at  her 
feet  and  draw  instruction  from  her  li|)s !  With 
such  a  teacher,  methinks  I  could  learn  the 
Lenape  tongue  in  a  month  I— What  says  my 
hroiherl"  he  continued,  aloud,  addressing  War- 
Eagle,  whose  fine  countenance  wore  an  expres- 
sion of  indifference,  almost  amounting  to  con- 
tempt— "  What  says  my  brother  of  this  paper !" 

'•It  is  perhaps  good,"  replied  the  Indian,  grave- 
ly ;  "  for  the  black  father,  and  for  the  white  man 
— but  not  for  the  I.enape.  The  Great  Spirit  has 
given  him  a  heart  to  feel,  and  a  hand  to  fight, 
anil  eyes  to  see  the  smallest  track  on  the  grass 
— that  is  enough.'  Our  fathers  knew  no  more, 
and  they  were  great,  and  strong,  and  brave! 
Chiefs  among  the  nations !  What  are  we  now 
— few,  and  weak,  and  wandering ;  it  is  better 
for  us  to  live  and  die  like  them,  and  we  shall 
hunt  with  thdlh  jn  ^  happy  fields.  Let  us  go 
and  show  Netis  wWe  Wingenund  takes  the 
turkeys."  So  saying,  he  turned  and  led  the 
way,  followed  by  his  two  companions. 


CHAPtfiR  XXI. 

An  arrival  at  Mooslianne. — A  calm  ashore  after  a  storm 
at  sea. 

While  the  events,  narrated  in  the  preceding 
chapter,  were  occurring  in  the  Western  wilder- 
ness, the  fa..iily  at  Moushanne  had  been  thrown 
into  a  state  of  the  greatest  dismay  and  confu- 
sion, by  the  arrival  of  Captain  1/Cstrange's 
first  letter,  announcing  the  flight  of  Ethelston 
with  his  daughter,  and  depicting  his  conduct  in 
the  blackest  colours.  Colonel  Brandon  had  pe- 
rused its  contents  half  a  dozen  times,  and  they 
had  produced  traces  of  an.\iety  upon  his  coun- 
tenance, loo  evident  to  escape  the  observation 
of  Lucy,  so  that  be  was  obliged  to  break  to  her 
by  degrees  the  painful  intelligence  of  her  lover's 
infidelity  ;  with  a  calmness  that  surprised  him, 
she  insisted  on  reading  the  letter ;  as  she  pro- 
ceeded her  brow  crimsoned  with  indignation, 
and  those  blue  eyes,  usually  beaming  with  the 
gentlest  expression,  flushed  with  an  angry  lus- 
tre. 

Colonel  Brandon  knew  full  well  the  afTection 
she  had  long  conceived  for  Ethelston,  and  though 
his  own  feelings  were  deeply  wounded  by  the 
misconduct  of  one  whom  he  had  h>ved  and 
trusted  as  a  son,  they  wore,  at  present,  over- 
powered by  the  fears  which  he  entertained  of 
the  effect  which  this  unexpected  blow  might 
produce  on  Lucy's  health  ^nd  happiness.  He 
was,  therefore,  relieved  by  observing  the  an- 
ger expressed  on  her  countenance,  and  prepar- 
ed himself  to  hear  the  deserved  reproaches  oii 
her  former  lover,  which  seemed  ready  to  burst 
from  her  tongue.  What  was  his  surprise 
when  he  saw  her  tear  the  letter  in  pieces  bel'uie 
his  face,  and  heard  her,  while  she  set  her  pretty 
little  foot  upon  them,  exclaim, 

"  Dear,  dear  father,  how  could  you  for  a  mo- 
ment  believe  such  a  tale  of  vile,  atrocious  false- 
hood 1" 


67 

However  disinclined  the  Colonel  might  be  to 
believe  anything  to  the  disadvantage'^  Etbel- 
ston,  there  was  so  much  circumstantial  evidettts 
to  condemn  him.  that  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  pre- 
pare his  child  for  the  worst  at  once,  and  to 
point  out  to  her  how  they  already  knew  that 
l:^lhelston  had  been  wounded  and  conveyed  to 
tiie  house  of  L'Estrange,  that  his  long  absence 
was  unexplained,  and  lastly  that  the  character 
of  the  French  Commodore,  as  an  officer  and  a 
man  of  honour,  was  unimpeached. 

Lucy  heard  him  to  the  end,  the  glow  on  her 
cheek  assumed  a  warmer  hue  and  the  little  foot 
beat  with  a  nervous  and  scarcely  perceptible 
motion  on  the  floor,  as  she  replied,  "  Father,  I 
vvdl  believe  that  the  letter  is  a  forgery,  or  that 
the  French  officer,  or  Commodore,  or  Admiral, 
is  a  madman,  but  never  that  Ethelston  is  a  vil- 
lain." 

"  My  dear  Lucy,"  said  the  Colonel ;  "  I  am 
almost  as  unwilling  to  think  ill  of  Ethelston  as 
you  can  be  yourself;  but,  alas !  I  have  seen 
more  than  you  of  the  inconstancy  of  men ;  aikd 
r  know,  too  well,  that  many  who  have  enjoyed 
a  good  reputation,  have  yet  been  found  unable 
to  withstand  temptation,  such  as  may  have  be- 
set Ethelston  while  an  inmate  of  the  same  house 
with  the  Creole  beauty — " 

"  Dear  Father,"  answered  Lucy,  colouring  yet 
more  deeply  ;  though  it  were  possible  that  Ethel- 
ston, in  the  presence  of  greater  attractions,  may 
have  yielded  to  them  his  affections  and  with- 
drawn them  from  one  who  had  hoped  to  possess 
and  treasure  them  for  life,  though  this  may  be 
possible,  it  is  not  possible  thai  he  should  be 
guilty  of  a  violation  of  the  laws  of  hospitality 
and  honour,  such  as  that  slanderous  paper  lays 
to  his  charge  ;  promise  me,  dearest  father,  t» 
suspend  your  belief,  and  never  to  speak  on  this 
subject  again,  until  it  is  God's  pleasure  that  the 
truth  shall  be  brought  to  light." 

"  I  promise  you,  my  sweet  child,"  said  her 
father ;  "  and  may  that  Merciful  Being  grant 
that  your  trust  be  not  disappointed." 

"  I  have  no  fears,"  said  Lucy,  and  as  she 
spoke  her  eyes  beamed  with  that  full  undoubt- 
ing  love,  such  as  can  only  be  felt  by  one  who 
has  never  known  what  it  is  to  deceive  or  to  be 
deceived. 

Days  and  weeks  passed  on  without  any  intel- 
ligence of  Ethelston ;  and  while  the  fears  of 
Colonel  Brandon  become  more  confirmed,  the 
agony  of  suspense,  and  the  sickness  of  deferred 
hope  began  to  prey  upon  the  spirits  of  his 
daughter ;  she  never  alluded  to  the  forbidden 
subject,  hut  her  nervous  anxiety,  when  the  week- 
ly letter-bag  was  opened,  clearly  showed  that 
it  was  ever  in  her  mind;  nevertheless  she  con- 
tinued her  occasional  excursions  to  Marietta^ 
and  visited,  as  usual,  those  around  Mocviir'ilanaff 
who  were  sick  or  in  distress,  su»,\iiil  neliheifaer 
mother,  nor  aunt  Mary,  detected  the  anxiety  by 
wliich  she  was  tortured.  One  evening,  half  an 
hour  before  sunset,  as  the  family  party  were 
seated  at  their  simple  supper,  the  clatter  of  i* 
horse's  hoofs  was  heard  approaching  at  fuU 
.speed,  from  which  the  rider  dismounted,  and 
lilting  the  latch  of  the  uiilucked  door,  entered 
the  house.  Traversing  the  vestibule  with  has- 
ty strides,  and  iipparently  guided  by  instinct  to 
the  apartuient  in  which  the  family  were  assem- 
Uleil,  lie  threw  open  ilie  door,  and  Ethelstoastoo^i 


lit. 


'k 


68 


THE    PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


11  c     I 


before  the  astonished  party.  His  countenance 
was  haggard  from  fatigue  and  exposure  to  the 
suill  and  his  whole  appearance  indicated  exhaus- 
lion.  Lucy  turned  deadly  pale,  and  Colonel 
Brandon's  constrained  manner,  as  he  rose  from 
his  chair,  must  have  convinced  the  new  comer 
that  his  return  was  productive  of  other  feelings 
than  those  of  unmingled  pleasure.  He  was 
moving,  however,  a  few  steps  forward  to  pay 
his  first  respects  to  Mrs.  Brandon,  when  the 
Colonel,  touching  rum  lightly  on  the  arm,  .said, 
"  Mr.  Ethelston,  I  must  crave  a  few  words  with 
you  in  the  adjoining  room." 

Hitherto  Lucy  had  remained  silent,  with  her 
eyes  fixed  intently  on  Ethelston's  countenance, 
he  returned  her  look  with  one  as  long  and  fix- 
ed, the  expressi't.  .>f  his  eyes  was  mournful, 
rather  than  joyous,  but  there  was  no  trace  ol 
uneasiness  or  c  shitine.  Springing  from  her 
seat,  she  placed  her  '  indi  imploringly  on  the 
Colonel's  arm,  s^yiuj-, 

"  Dear  father,  I  told  you  so  from  the  first — 
I  knew  it  always — I  read  it  now  plain  as  the 
sun  in  heaven — that  vile  letter  was  a  string  of 
falsehoods — he  is  returned  as  he  lefl  us,  with  an 
untarnished  honour." 

"  Thank  yon,  dear  Lucy,"  said  Ethelston,  ad- 
vancing and  pressing  her  extended  hands  to  his 
lips  ;  "  blessings  on  that  trusting  affection  which 
has  rendered  it  impossible  for  you  to  believe 
ought  to  the  prejudice  of  one  on  whom  you  have 
deigned  to  fix  it.  Colonel  Brandon,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  I  can  guess  how  you  have  been  misled, 
and  appearances  were,  for  a  short  time,  so  much 
against  me,  that  I  acquit,  of  all  intentional  mal- 
ice, those  who  have  misled  you !  Judge  for 
yourself  whether,  if  I  were  stained  by  the  crime 
of  which  I  have  been  accused,  I  could  now  ask, 
on  my  bended  knee,  for  the  blessing  of  you,  my 
second  father,  and  thus  hold  in  mine,  as  I  dare 
to  du,  the  hand  of  your  pnre,  trusting,  and  belov- 
ed child." 

There  was  a  truth  in  every  tone  of  his  voice, 
and  a  convincing  dignity  in  his  manner  that 
swept  away  all  doubts  like  a  torrent :  the  Colo- 
nel embraced  him  with  cordial  aflection  :  Aunt 
Mary  kissed  her  favourite  nephew  over  and  over 
again,  Mrs.  Brandon  wept  tears  of  joy  on  his 
neck,  and  Lucy  was  so  overpowered  with  de- 
light, that  she  was  perhaps  scarcely  conscious 
of  all  that  passed  around. 

After  they  were  in  some  degree  recovered 
from  their  emotion,  and  had  pressed  Ethelston 
to  take  some  refreshment ;  he  said  to  the  Colo- 
nel, "  Now  I  am  prepared  to  give  you  an  account 
ef  my  adventures,  and  to  explain  those  circum- 
stances that  led  to  the  misunderstanding  under 
which  you  have  so  long  laboured." 

"  Not  a  word— not  a  word  will  I  hear  of  ex- 
planation, to-night,  my  dear  hoy,"  replied  the 
Colonel.  "  I  am  already  ashamed  that  I  have 
not  shown  the  same  undoul)ting  confidence  in 
your  rectitude  both  of  purpose  and  conduct,  that 
has  been  evinced  from  first  to  last  by  Lucy. 
You  are  weary  and  exhausted,  the  agitation  of 
this  scene  has  been  trymg  to  all  of  us ;  we  will 
defer  your  narrative  until  to-morrow.  Our  first 
duty  this  evening,  is  to  return  our  thanks  to 
Providence  for  having  protected  you  through  all 
danger,  and  restored  you  safe  tc  the  comicrts  of 
home." 

As  he  spoke,  the  worths-  old  gentleman  took 


down  a  bible  from  the  shelf,  and,  having  desired 
Lucy  to  summon  all  the  servants  into  the  room, 
he  read  an  appropriate  chapter,  and  added  to 
the  selected  prayer  for  the  evening,  a  fbw  im- 
pressive and  affecting  words  of  thanksgivinc^ 
for  the  safe  return  of  the  long  lost  member  ot' 
the  family. 

This  duty  was  scarcely  concluded,  when  the 
outer  door  was  violently  opened  ;  a  heavy  step 
was  heard  approaching,  and,  without  waiting  to 
be  admitted  or  announced,  the  sturdy  figure  of 
Gregson  entered  the  room. 

"The  captain  himself,  as  I  live,"  said  the 
honest  mate.  "  Be^  pardon.  Colonel  Brandon, 
but  I  heard  a  report  of  his  having  been  seen 
going  ten  knots  an  hour  through  Marietta.  So 
I  up  sticks,  made  sail,  and  was  in  his  wake  in 
less  time  than  our  nigger  cook  takes  to  toss  off 
a  glass  of  grog." 

"  Give  me  your  hand,  Gregson,"  said  Ethel- 
ston, kindly  ;  "  there  is  not  a  truer,  or  an  hon- 
ester  one  between  Marietta  and  Chin^." 

"Thank  ye,  thank  ye,  Captai;),"  said  the 
mate,  giving  him  a  squee||kthat  would  have 
broken  the  knuckles  of  anj^nnd  but  a  sailor's ; 
"  the  flipper's  well  enough  in  its  way,  and  I  tr»st 
the  heart's  somewhere  about  the  right  p.  :e 
but  what  the  devil  have  they  been  at  with  you 
in  Guadaluupe,"  he  added,  observing  his  chief's 
wearied  and  wasted  appearance ;  "  considerfhg 
how  long  those  rascally  Frenchmen  have  had 
you  in  dock,  they've  sent  you  to  sea  in  a  pre- 
ciuus  state,  both  as  to  hull  and  rigging." 

*'  I  confess  I  am  not  over  ship-shape,"  said 
Ethelston,  laughing,  "  but  my  present  condition 
is  more  owing  to  the  fatigues  of  my  tedious 
journey  from  New  Orleans,  than  to  any  neglect, 
on  the  part  of  the  Frenchmen." 

The  Colonel  now  invited  the  worthy  mate  to 
be  seated,  and  Lucy  brewed  for  him,  with  her 
own  fair  fingers,  a  large  tumbler  of  toddy,  into 
which,  by  her  fat  iter's  desire,  she  poured  an 
extra  glass  of  r^.a.  Ethelston,  pretending  to 
be  jealous  of  this  favour,  insisted  on  his  right 
to  a  draught,  containing  less  potent  ingredients, 
but  administered  by  the  same  hand,  and  an  ani- 
mated conversation  ensued,  in  the  course  of 
which  Gregson  inquired  aller  the  welfare  of  his 
old  friend  Cupid,  the  black  cook. 

"  Poor  fellow,  he  is  no  more,"  replied  Ethel- 
ston, in  a  tone  of  deep  feeling ;  "  he  died  as  he 
had  lived,  pruud,  brave,  faithflil  to  the  last.  1 
cannot  tell  you  the  story  now,  it  is  too  sad  a 
one  for  this  our  first  evening  at  home ;"  as  he 
spoke,  his  eyes  met  those  of  Lucy,  and  there 
he  read  all  that  his  overcharged  heart  desired 
to  know. 

Soon  after  the  allusion  to  this  melancholy 
incident,  the  little  party  broke  up ;  the  evening 
being  already  far  advanced,  Gregson  returned 
to  Marietta ;  and  the  members  of  the  colonel's 
family  retired  to  tlieir  respective  apartments, 
leaving  Ethelston  alone  in  the  drawing-room. 
For  a  few  minutes  he  walked  up  and  down,  and 
pressed  his  hand  upon  his  forehead,  which 
throbbed  with  various  and  deep  emotions.  He 
took  up  the  music  whereon  Lucy  had  written 
her  name,  the  needle- work  on  which  her  fingers 
had  been  employed  ;  he  sat  down  on  the  chair 
she  had  just  left,  as  if  to  satisfy  himself  with 
the  assurance  th>°,  all  around  him  was  not  a 
dream ;  and  again  he  vented  the  full  gratitude 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD 


to 


I 


of  his  heart  in  a  brief  but  earnest  ejaculation 
of  Ihanlugivjng.  After  a  short  indulgence  in 
such  meditations,  he  retired  to  that  rest  of 
which  he  stood  so  much  in  need.  The  room 
that  had  been  prepared  for  him  was  up  stairs, 
and,  on  crossing  a  broad  passage  that  led  to  it, 
he  suddenly  met  Lucy,  who  was  returning  to 
her  own  from  her  mother's  apartment.  Whether 
this  meeting  was  purely  accidental,  or  whether 
Lucy  remembering  that  she  had  not  said  Good- 
night, quite  distinctly  to  her  lover,  lingered  in 
her  mother's  room  until  she  heard  his  step  on 
the  stair,  we  have  no  means  of  ascertaining, 
and  therefore  leave  it  undecided ;  certain  it  is, 
however,  that  they  did  meet  in  the  passage 
above  mentioned,  and  that  Ethelstnn  putting 
down  his  candle  on  a  table  that  stood  by,  took 
Lucy's  unresisting  hand  and  pressed  it  in  his 
own  ;  he  gazed  'on  her  blushing  countenance 
with  an  intensity  that  can  only  be  understood 
by  those  who,  like  him,  have  been  suddenly 
restored  to  a  belovej  one,  whose  image  had 
been  ever  present  during  a  long  absence,  as- 
suaging the  pain  o^ickness,  uomforting  him  in 
trials,  dwelling  wiffi  him  in  the  solitude  of  a 
prison,  and  sustaining  him  in  the  extremest 
perils  of  the  storm,  the  fight,  and  the  shipwreck ! 
Though  he  had  never  been  formally  betrothed 
to  her  in  words,  and  though  his  heart  was  now 
too  full  to  give  utterance  to  them,  he  had  heard 
enough  below  to  satisfy  him  that  she  had  never 
doubted  his  faith— he  felt  that  t'aeir  troth  was 
t»r;itly  plighted  to  each  other,  and  now  it  v/as 
almost  unconsciously  that  their  lips  met  and 
sealed  the  unspoken  contract. 

That  first,  long,  passionate,  kiss  of  requited 
love !  Its  raptures  have  been  the  theme  of 
glowing  prose,  of  impassioned  verse,  in  all  ages 
and  climes ;  the  powers  of  language  have  been 
exhausted  upon  it,  the  tongue  anil  the  pen  of 
Genius  have,  for  centuries  borrowe  1  for  its  de- 
scription the  warmest  hues  of  fancy  and  imagi- 
nation— and  yet  how  far  short  do  th'sy  fall  of 
the  reality !  how  impossible  to  express  'n  words 
an  electric  torrent  of  feeling,  more  tumultnous 
than  joy,  more  burning  than  the  desert's  thirst, 
— ^yel  sweeter  and  more  delicious  than  child- 
hood's dream  of  Paradise,  pouring  over  the 
hodri  c  stream  of  bliss,  steeping  the  senses  in 
oblivion  of  all  earthly  cares,  and  so  mysteriously 
blending  the  phv<!iuai  with  the  uuniaterial  ele- 
ments of  our  nature,  that  we  feel  as  if.  in  that 
embrace,  we  could  transfuse  a  portion  of  our  soul 
and  spirit  into  the  beloved  object,  on  whose  lip 
that  first  kiss  of  long-treasured  love  is  imprinted. 

Brief  and  fleeting  moments !  they  are  gone 
almost  before  the  mind  is  conscious  of  them ! 
They  could  not,  indeed,  be  otherwise  than  brief, 
for  the  agony  of  joy  is  like  that  of  pain,  and 
exhausted  nature  would  sink  under  its  continued 
excess.  Precious  moments,  indeed !  to  none 
can  they  be  known  more  than  once  in  life ;  to 
very  many,  they  can  never  be  known  at  all. 
They  can  neither  bo  felt  nor  imagined  by  the 
mere  worldling,  nor  the  sensualist ;  the  sources 
of  that  stream  of  blis:i  must  be  unadulterated 
by  aught  low,  or  selfish  ;  it  is  not  enough  that 

"  Heart  and  auul  and  lenae  in  concert  move  ;" 

At'sm'  must  go  hand  in  hand  with  purity,  nnd 
virtue  be  the  handmaid  of  passion,  or  the  bliss- 
ful scene  will  lose  its  fairest  and  brightest  hues. 


The  step  of  some  servant  was  heard  approach- 
ing, and  Lucy,  uttering  a  hasty  good-night,  re- 
turned to  her  room,  where  she  bolted  her  door, 
and  gave  herself  up  to  the  varied  emotions  tr^ 
which  she  was  overcome.  Tears  bedewed  her 
eyes,  but  they  were  not  tears  of  grief;  her 
bosom  was  agitated,  but  it  was  not  the  agita- 
tion of  sorrow ;  her  pillow  was  sleepless,  but 
she  courted  not  slumber,  for  her  mind  dwelt  on 
the  events  of  the  past  day,  and  gratitude  for 
her  lover's  return,  together  with  the  full  assu- 
rance of  his  untarnished  honour,  and  undimin- 
ished affection,  rendered  her  waking  thoughts 
sweeter  than  any  that  sleep  could  have  bor- 
rowed from  the  Land  of  Dreams. 

On  the  following  morning,  after  breakfast, 
when  the  family  were  assentbled  in  the  library, 
Ethelston,  at  the  request  of  Colonel  Brandon, 
commenced  the  narrative  of  his  adventures.  As 
the  reader  is  already  acquainted  with  them, 
until  the  closing  scene  of  poor  Nina's  life,  we 
shall  make  mention  of  that  part  of  his  tale,  no 
farther  than  to  state  that,  so  far  as  truth  would 
permit,  in  all  that  he  told  as  well  as  all  that  he 
forbore  to  tell,  he  feetiiigiy  endeavoured  to 
shield  her  memory  fiom  blame;  the  sequel  of 
his  story  we  shall  give  as  narrated  in  his  own 
words. 

"  I  remained  only  a  few  days  with  L'Estrange 
after  his  daughter's  death ;  during  which  time  I 
used  my  best  endeavours  tu  console  him  ;  but, 
in  spite  of  the  affectionate  kindness  which  he 
showed  me,  I  felt  that  my  presence  must  ever 
recall  and  refresh  the  remembrance  of  his  be- 
reavement, and  I  was  much  relieved  when  the 
arrival  of  one  of  his  other  married  daughters 
with  her  family,  gave  me  an  excuse  and  an  op- 
portunity for  withdrawing  from  Uuadaloupe. 
The  vessel  which  had  brought  them  from  Ja- 
maica proposed  to  return  immediately,  and  I 
easily  obtained  L'Estrange's  permission  to  sail 
witli  her,  only  on  the  condition  of  not  serving 
against  France  during  the  continuance  of  these 
hostilities :  when  I  bade  him  farewell  he  was 
much  affected,  and  embraced  me  as  i ,'  he  were 
parting  with  a  son,  so  I  have  at  least  ihe  loel- 
ancholy  satisfaction  of  knowing  thf.t  I  retain 
his  best  wishes  and  his  esteem. 

"  My  voyage  to  Port-royal  w?.3  prosperous ; 
on  arriving  I  faund  a  hrig  iaden  with  fruit  just 
about  to  sail,  in  a  few  days,  for  New  Orleans. 
I  confess  I  did  pjt  much  like  the  appearance 
either  of  the  vessel,  or  her  commander,  but 
such  was  my  inpatience  to  return  to  Moo- 
shanne,  that  I  be.'ieve  I  would  have  risked  the 
voyage  in  an  opei  boat,"  here  Ethelston  looked 
at  Lucy,  on  whose  countenance  a  blushing 
smile  showed  th  it  she  well  knew  the  meaning 
of  his  words.  "I  embarked,"  he  continued 
"  accompanied  by  my  faithful  Cupid,  on  board 
the  '  Dos  Amigos  :'  the  captain  was  an  ignorant 
rum-drinking  Creole,  besides  himself  there  wa;: 
only  one  white  man  in  the  crew,  and  the  col- 
oured men  were  from  all  countries  and  climates, 
the  most  reckless  and  turbulent  gang  that  I  bad 
ever  seen  on  board  a  ship.  During  the  first 
half  of  the  voyage,  the  weather  being  favoura- 
ble, we  crept  along  the  suutliern  coast  of  Cuba 
and  past  almost  within  sight  of  the  Isia  de  Fi- 
nos, which  I  had  so  much  cause  to  remember  ; 
thence  we  steered  a  northwesterly  course,  and 
doubled  the  Cape  of  Saint  Antonio  in  safety 


/li 


m 


Irt- 


m 


70 


THE    PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


«  hence  we  had  a  prospect  of  a  fair  run  v.  he 
iialisi) ;  hut,  two  days  after  we  had  lost  sight 
of  ilio  Ciil)iin  coaHt,  it  cairie  on  to  blow  a  gali; 
of  wind  wliii^li  gr,i;!iially  infreased  until  it  lie- 
oau.v>  ahniist  :i  hur  it  nne  from  llie  soutli-wc»t. 

Tlie  hrig  diove  hriplessly  hcforo  it,  and  from 
her  Inaky  and  shai'ored  eondition,  as  well  as 
from  the  lota!  want  uf  8t'unianslii|)  exitihiied  by 
her  drunken  captain, '  hourly  t'xpwted  that  she 
wmild  founder  at  8(!a ;  for  twpniy-four  hours  the 
gale  continued  with  unabated  violence,  and  the 
veather  was  so  thick  tha*  no  object  could  be 
<lis';i,rned  at  two  hundred  yards  distance  ;  I  re- 
mained constant!;  <>>i  deck,  giving  sncli  assist- 
ance as  [  could  under,  and  endeavouring  to 
keep  the  captain's  'ips  from  the  rum-bottle,  to 
which  he  had  mo'e  fi'C(|uent  recourse  as  the 
danger  tweame  more  imminent.  Being,  at 
length,  wearied  out,  I  threw  myself  in  niv 
clotht'.s  on  my  cot,  and  soon  fell  avyep.  \  know 
not  how  long  I  elep!.  hut  I  was  awa'-^'  nod  by  a 
violent  shuck,  aceom(>.ioi('d  by  agraiiui'  grind- 
ing- sound,  from  which  1  knew  in  an  insiant  that 
the  brig  had  struck  on  a  km  k  ;  almoat  !;>  fore  I 
had  time  to  spring  fn>n»  my  cot,  ('upid  ilashc;! 
into  the  cabin  and  Btizing  me  with  the  force  id' 
a  giant,  dragged  me  on  Oeck  At  thi.s  nrrflenl 
the  foiemasr  foil  with  a  tremendous  crash,  and 
a  heavy  aoa  swept  over  the  devoted  vessel,  car- 
;yii>g  away  li:e  l)oat,  al!  iooie  spars,  and  man} 
<H  itie  orew ;  Cupid  and  1  held  on  by  the  main 
/((^-gifij;  and  were  W  swept  away  ;  hut  wave 
alti-;r  w:iv;  3uccfci!"u  each  other  with  resist- 
le.<>«  fuo",  jp'l  in  a  tew  moments  we  were  boih 
sti>i£,"V:tg.  half  :innned  and  exhausted,  in  the 
ahvr;'.  Jl'  waters,  holding  on  convulsively  to 
a  ui'se  hen-coop,  which  had  providentially  been 
ihrown  between  us. 

"  One  wild  shriek  of  despair  reached  my  ear, 
after  which  nothing  was  heard  but  the  tumultu- 
ous ruar  of  the  angry  elements." 

At  this  part  of  Ethelston's  narrative,  Lucy 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  as  if  she 
would  thereby  shut  out  the  dreadful  view,  and 
in  spite  of  all  her  struggle  for  self-command,  a 
tear  stole  down  her  colourless  cheek. 

"  It  was,  indeed,  a  fairful  moment,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  and  yet  I  did  not  feel  deserted  hy  hope ; 
I  was  prepared  for  death,  I  prayed  fervently, 
and  I  felt  that  my  prayer  was  not  unheard ; 
even  then,  in  the  strife  of  foaming  sea  and 
Toaring  blast,  God  sent  the  vision  of  an  angel 
to  comfort  and  sustain  me  !  It  wore  ihe  form 
ef  one  who  has  ever  dwelt  in  my  thoughts  hy 
day,  and  in  my  dreams  by  night;  who  seemed 
as  near  to  me  then,  as  she  does  now  that  her 
gentle  tears  are  flowing  at  this  recital  of  my 
trials." 

While  speaking  the  last  words,  his  low  voice 
trembled  until  it  fell  into  a  whisper,  and  Lucy, 
overcome  by  her  feeling,  would  have  fallen  from 
her  chair,  had  not  his  ready  arm  supported  her. 
A  dead  silenced  reigned  in  the  room.  Aunt  Mary 
wept  aloud,  and  Colonel  Brandon  walked  to  the 
window  to  conceal  his  emotion.  After  a' few 
minutes,  as  she  turned  again  towards  them  ; 
Ethelston,  who  still  supported  Lucy,  ueckoned 
liim  to  approach,  and  addressing  him  in  a  tone 
<if  deep  and  earnest  feeling,  said, 

"Colonel  Brandon,  my  guardian,  friend  and 
benefactor ;  add  yet  this  one  to  all  your  former 
benefits,  and  my  cuj)  of  gratitude  will  be  full  in- 


deed," as  he  spoke  he  took  the  unresisting  hand 
of  Lucy  in  his  own  ;  the  Colonel  looked  in* 
quiringly  and  afTectionately  at  his  daughter, 
u  ho  did  not  speak,  but  raised  her  tearful  eyes 
to  his,  Willi  an  expression  not  to  be  miituniler- 
stood.  Pressing  their  united  hands  between 
his  own,  and  kissing  Lucy's  forehead  he  whis* 
pered, 

"  God  bless  you,  my  children  :'  after  a  pause 
he  added,  with  a  suppressed  smile,  "  Ethelston 
shall  linish  his  narrative  presently  ;"  and  taking 
Aunt  Mary's  arm  he  left  the  room. 

We  will  itiiiiatt;  thfi  Colonel's  discretion,  and 
forbear  to  .niniile  i';>iin  ii;<'  sacred  quiet  of  a 
scene  where  t'u  secret  long-chenshed  love  of 
two  overHow.ji.c'  hearts  was  Eit  length  un- 
reserved';/ iniv'r.rianged  ,  we  .ic-'c'  only  say 
that  ere  t  lie  ColijRei  returned  utt  sint  Mary, 
after  an  ..hsfntv  <-,'  tiaii  .  \  hour  \  n  ;y's  tears 
were  dned,  and  her  cb  ;ek8  wer  >  ivrXused  with 
a  mantlini'  blush,  as  she  sprang  into  her  fa- 
tfier's  arm.i  and  held  him  in  a  long  and  silent 
i!n<tii;i(!e. 

"  Come,  my  child,"  sai^  the  Colonel,  when 
he  had  relurri'd  her  afTeptinnato  ..ress;  "sit 
down,  ;;t/i1  let  us  hea;  tiifl  c<  ;,clusi<';i  of  Ethel- 
ston's adventures — we  left  him  in  a  perilous 
plijrtu,  and  I  an:  nnTiou.9  lo  liear  how  he  es- 
ca|"''d  tiom  i<  ' 

".Not  with'  lit  nuK.:  jufferinjj,  both  of  mind 
and  body,  my  d.ar  sir,'  continued  Ethelston  in 
a  serious  tone  of  voice ;  "  for  the  sea  dashed  to 
an  fro  with  such  violence  the  frail  basket-work 
to  uliicli  Cupid  and  I  were  clinging,  that  more 
than  once  I  was  almost  forced  to  quit  my  hold, 
and  it  was  soon  evident  that  its  buoyant  power 
wa.s  lint  sufficient  to  save  us  both,  especially  as 
Cujiia's  bulk  and  weight  were  commensurate 
With  liis  gigantic  strength  ;  his  coolness  under 
the!'/  trying  circumstances  was  remarkable; 
observing  that  I  was  almost  fainting  from  the 
effects  of  a  severe  blow  on  the  head  from  a 
floating  piece  of  the  wreck,  he  poured  into  my 
mouth  acme  rum  from  a  small  flask  that  he 
had  contrived  to  secure,  and  then  replacing  the 
stopper,  thrust  the  flask  into  my  breast  pocket, 
saying,  "  Capt'n  drink  more  when  he  want :" 
at  this  moment  a  large  spar  from  the  wreck 
was  driven  past  us,  and  the  faithful  creature 
said,  "  Capt'n,  hencoop  not  big  enough  for  two, 
Cupid  swim  and  take  spar  to  ride  ;"  and  ere  I 
could  stop  him  he  loosed  his  hold  and  plunged 
into  the  huge  wave  to  seize  the  spar ;  more  I 
could  not  see,  for  the  spray  dashed  over  me, 
and  the  gloom  and  the  breakers  hid  him  in  a 
moment  from  my  sight.  I  felt  my  strength  fail- 
ing, but  enough  remained  for  me  to  loose  a 
strong  silk  kerchief  from  my  neck,  and  to  lash 
myself  firmly  to  the  hencoop ;  again  and  again 
ttie  wild  sea  broke  over  me :  I  felt  a  tremend- 
ous and  stunning  blow — as  I  thought,  the  last, 
and  I  was  no  more  conscious  of  what  passed 
around. 

"  When  I  recoverd  my  senses  I  found  myself 
lying  upon  some  soft  branches,  and  sheltered  by 
low  bushes,  a  few  hundred  yards  from  the  sea- 
beach  ;  two  strange  men  were  standing  near 
me,  and  gave  evident  signs  of  satisfaction  when 
they  saw  my  first  attempts  at  speech  and  mo- 
tion ;  they  made  me  swallow  several  morsels 
of  sea  biscuit  steeped  in  rum,  and  I  was  soon 
so  far  restored  as  to  be  able  to  sit  up,  and  to 


ivi 


THE  PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


,«aTn  the  particulars  of  my  situation.  Tho 
island  near  which  tho  brig  had  been  wrecked, 
was  ont'  of  llie  Tortiigaa  ;  the  two  men  wlio 
liad  carried  me  up  to  a  dry  spot  from  the  beach, 
lielon^ied  to  a  small  fisiilnK-craft,  which  had  put 
in  two  days  before  the  hurricane  for  a  supply  of 
water,  and  in  hopes  of  catching  turtle.  Their 
■vessel  was  securely  moored  in  a  little  natural 
harbour,  protected  by  the  outer  ledge  of  rocks ; 
the  reef  on  whicli  the  brig  had  struck  was  up- 
ward of  a  mile  from  the  spot  where  they  had 
found  me,  and  I  could  not  learn  from  them  that 
they  had  seen  any  portion  of  her  wreck,  or  any 
yart  of  her  crew  alive  or  dead. 

"  As  soon  as  my  bruised  condition  permitted 
tne  to  drag  my  limbs  along,  I  commenced  a 
careful  search  along  the  low  rocky  shore,  in 
hopes  of  learning  something  of  the  fate  of  Cu- 
pid, and  at  length  was  horrified  on  discovering 
(he  mutilated  remains  of  the  faithful  creature, 
among  some  crevices  in  the  rocks.  He  had 
«Iung  to  the  epar  which  still  lay  beside  him 
with  the  pertinaciou?  strength  of  despair;  his 
hands  and  limbs  were  dreadfully  mangled,  and 
his  skull  fractured  by  the  violence  with  which 
he  had  been  driven  on  the  reef  I  remembered 
how  he  had  resigned  the  hencoop  to  save  my 
life ;  and  the  grief  that  I  evinced  for  his  loss 
moved  the  compassion  of  the  fisherman,  who 
aided  me  to  bury  him  decently  on  the  island. 

"We  remained  there  two  days  longer,  until 
the  gale  had  subsided,  during  which  time  I 
frequently  visited  poor  Cupid's  grave;  and 
though  many  of  our  countrymen  would  be 
ashamed  of  owning  such  regret  for  one  of  his  col- 
our, I  confess  that  when  on  that  lonely  spot  I 
called  to  mind  his  faithful  services,  and  his  last 
noble  act  of  generous  courage,  I  mourned  him 
as  a  friend  and  brother. 

"  When  the  fishing-smack  put  to  sea,  I  pre- 
vailed on  her  captain  to  visit  the  reef  where  the 
brig  had  struck,  but  we  found  not  a  spar  nor 
plank  remaining;  nor  am  I  to  this  moment 
aware  whether  any  others  of  her  crew  survived 
the  wreck,  but  it  is  more  than  probable  that 
they  perished  to  p.  man.  Upon  the  promise  of 
a  considerable  sum  of  money,  I  prevailed  upon 
the  fisherman  to  give  me  a  passage  to  New- 
Orleans,  where  we  arrived  without  accident  or 
adventure,  and  my  impatience  to  reach  home 
only  permitted  me  to  stay  in  that  city  a  few 
hours,  when,  having  provided  myself  with  a 
horse,  I  rode  on  hither  by  forced  marches,  and 
arrived  in  the  travel-worn  condition  that  you 
observed  yesterday." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

An  Elk-hunt. — Reginald  makes  his  first  essay  in  surgery. 
—The  reader  is  admitted  into  Frairie-Blrd's  tent. 

We  left  Reginald  Brandon  in  the  skirt  of  the 
forest  bounding  ilie  Western  Prairie,  accompa- 
nied by  Wingenund  and  War-Eagle.  The  lat- 
ter, having  taken  the  lead,  conducted  his  com- 
panions through  a  considerable  extent  of 
ground,  covered  with  hushes  of  alder  and  scrub- 
oak,  jiintil  they  reached,  an  open  lurest  glade, 
where  the  Indian  pointed  out  to  Reginald  a 
large  square  building,  composed  of  rough  logs, 
and  covered  with  the  same  material.     In  the 


centre  of  one  side  was  a  low  aperture  or  door, 
about  fifteen  inches  in  height,  in  front  of  which 
was  a  train  of  iimize  Uid  by  Wiiigen'ind  ;  on 
approaching  this  turkey-pen',  or  tr^p,  they  ob- 
served that  there  were  already  two  prisoners,  a 
largo  gobbler  and  a  female  bird,  although  not 
more  than  an  iinur  had  elapsed  sinre  the  lad  had 
taken  out  the  four  turkeys  which  have  been  be- 
fore mentioned.  When  the  captives  became 
aware  of  tlie  approach  of  the  party,  they  ran 
about  the  pen  from  side  t^  side,  thrusting  out 
their  long  necks,  peering  through  tho  crevices 
in  the  logs,  jumping  and  flying  against  the  top, 
in  their  violent  endeavours  to  escape. 

"  Do  they  never  stoop  their  heads,"  inquired 
Reginald,  '*  and  go  nut  at  tho  same  door  by 
which  they  entered  V 

"  Never,"  replied  Wingenund.  '      '•* 

"That  is  singular,"  said  Reginald,  *' for  the 
bird  is  in  general  very  sagacious  and  difficult  to 
be  taken  or  killed  ; — how  does  it  happen  that 
they  are  so  unaccountably  stupid  as  not  to  go 
out  where  they  came  in  V 

Before  answering  the  question  addressed  to 
him,  Wingenund  cast  a  diffident  look  towards 
War-Eagle,  and  on  receiving  from  the  chief  a 
sign  to  reply,  he  said, 

"  Netis  knows  that  the  Great  Spirit  distrib- 
utes the  gifts  of  wisdom  and  cunning  like  the 
sunshine  and  the  storm,  even  the  Black-Father 
does  not  understand  all  his  ways.  How  can 
Wingenund  tell  why  the  tu;  key's  eye  is  so 
quick,  his  ear  so  sharp,  his  legs  so  swift  1 — and 
yet  he  is  sometimes  a  fool ;  when  he  picks  up 
the  maize,  his  head  is  low  ;  he  walks  through 
the  opening ;  he  is  in  a  strange  place ;  he  is 
frightened;  and  fear  takes  from  him  all  the 
sense  that  the  Great  Spirit  had  given  him. 
Wingenund  knows  no  more." 

"  My  young  brother  speaks  truly  and  wisely 
beyond  his  years,'  said  Reginald,  kindly.  "  It 
is  as  you  say,  fear  makes  him  forget  all  the  ca- 
pacities of  his  nature ;  it  is  so  with  men — ^why 
should  it  be  otherwise  with  birds  t  Does  War- 
Eagle  say  nothingi" 

"  My  brother's  words  are  true,"  replied  the 
chief,  gravely ;  "  he  has  picked  out  one  arrow, 
but  many  remain  in  the  quiver." 

"  My  brother  speaks  riddles,"  said  Reginald. 
"  I  do  not  understand  him." 

"  Fear  is  a  bad  spirit,"  replied  the  chief,  rais- 
ing his  arm  and  speaking  with  energy.  "  It 
creeps  round  the  heart  of  a  woman,  and  crawls 
among  tho  lodges  of  the  Dacotahs ;  it  makes 
the  deer  leap  into  the  river  when  he  would  be 
safer  in  the  thicket ;  it  makes  the  turkey  a  fool 
and  keeps  him  in  the  pen  :  but  there  are  other 
bad  spirits  that  make  the  heart  crooked  and  the 
eyes  blind." 

"  Tell  me,  how  sol"  inquired  Reginald,  de- 
sirous of  encouraging  his  Indian  friend  to  con 
tinue  his  illustration. 

"  Does  my  brother  know  the  antelope,"  re 
plied  War-Eagle;  "he  is  very  cunning  and 
swill ;  his  eye  is  quick  as  the  turkey's ;  the 
hunter  could  not  overtake  him :  but  he  lies 
down  in  a  hollow  and  hides  himself ;  he  fastens 
a  tuft  of  erass  to  his  tmw  and  holds  it  over  his 
head  ;  theBad  Spirit  gets  into  the  antelope ;  he 
becomes  a  fool ;  he  comes  nearer  and  nearer  to 
look  at  the  strange  sight ;— the  hunter  shoots 
and  he  dies.    Th'Te  are  many  bad  stjirits.  The 


i: 


78 


THE  PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


Wyandot  who  struck  at  my  white  brother,  he  was 
a  oiinning  make ;  he  had  taken  scalpa,  the  ball 
of  his  rifle  did  not  wander ;  if  he  !tad  crept  in 
the  bushea  on  my  brother's  path,  Nelia  would 
now  be  in  the  happy  hiintlng-tields  of  the  white 
warriors.  But  a  Bad  Spirit  took  him ;  he  of- 
fered food  while  his  heart  was  faUe,  and  he 
thrust  his  head  under  the  tomahawk  of  War- 
Eagle.  There  are  many  bad  spirits.  I  have 
spoken  " 

Reginald  listened  with  interest  to  these  sen- 
timents of  his  Indian  friend,  expressed,  as  they 
were,  in  broken  sentences  and  in  broken  Eng- 
lish, the  purport  of  them  being,  however,  oxact- 
iy  conveyed  in  the  foregoing  sentences  ;  but  he 
refrained  from  pursuing  the  subject  farther,  ob- 
serving that  War-Eagle  was  slinging  the  tur- 
keys over  Winjgenund's  shoulder,  and  preparing 
to  pursue  their  course  in  search  of  the  elk. 
leaving  the  youth  to  return  with  his  feathered 
burden  to  the  encampment,  the  two  friends  con- 
tinued their  excursion,  War-Eagie  leading  the 
way,  and  stopping  every  now  and  then  to  ex- 
amine such  tracks  as  appoa")d  to  him  worthy  of 
notice.  They  had  not  proceeded  far,  wlien  they 
reached  a  spot  where  the  path  which  they  were 
following  crossed  a  small  rivulet,  and,  the  boil 
being  soft  on  its  bank,  there  were  nnnierons 
hoof-prints  of  deer  and  elk,  but  so  confused  by 
the  trampling  of  the  different  animals,  that 
Reginald  could  not  distinguish  the  one  from  the 
otb*^r.  It  was  not  so,  however,  with  the  Indian, 
ST  pointing  downward  to  a  track  at  his  foot, 
he  ikade  a  sign,  by  raising  both  his  hands  above 
his  head,  to  indicate  a  pairof  antlers,  and  whis- 
pered to  Reginald  "  very  big." 

"An  elk?"  inquired  the  latter;  making  a  si- 
lent affirmative  sign,  War-Eaplc  pursued  the 
trail  which  conducted  them  to  the  tup  of  a  small 
rising  ground,  where  it  appeared  to  branch  in 
severaldireetions  ami  became  almost  impercep- 
tible from  the  shortness  of  the  grass  and  the 
hardness  of  the  soil.  But  these  seemed  to  offer 
no  impediment  to  the  Indian's  pursuit  of  his 
quarry,  fur  turning  short  at  a  right  angle  to  their 
former  course,  he  descended  the  hillock  in  a 
different  direction,  walking  with  a  swid  noise- 
less step  as  if  he  saw  his  game  before  him. 

Reginald's  surprise  overcame  even  hiseagcr- 
ness  fur  the  sport,  trained  as  he  had  been  in  the 
woods,  and  justly  held  one  of  the  quickest  and 
most  skilful  hunters  in  the  territory ;  he  had 
Idoked  in  vain  on  the  ground  wiiich  they  were 
now  traversing  for  the  slightest  point  or  foot- 
mark ;  touching,  therefore,  his  friend  lightly  on 
his  shoulder,  he  whispered,  "  Does  my  brother 
guess  tiie  elk's  path  1 — or  can  he  smell  it  like 
the  Spaniard's  dog  1" 

A  good-humoured  smile  played  on  the  Dela- 
ware's lip  as  he  replied,  "  The  trail  of  the  elk  is 
broad  and  easy ;  War-Eagle  could  follow  it  by 
the  moon's  light  I     My  while  brother  will  si 
be  is  an  elk  chief;  his  squaws  are  with  him. 

As  he  spoke  he  showed  several  marks  which 
Reginald  could  scarcely  distinguish  on  ihe  sliort 
grass;  a  few  yards  farther  War-Ei^.tle  added, 
pointing  to  a  low  bush  beside  them,  "  if  Netis 
does  not  see  the  elk's  foot,  he  can  see  his  teeth." 

On  examining  the  bush  Reginald  perceived 
that  a  small  fresh  twig  from  the  side  of  it  had 
been  recently  cropped,  and  suppressing  his  as- 
tOBisfament  at  his  friend's  sagacity,  in  following 


with  such  apparent  ease  a  trail  that  to  him  was 
scarcely  discernible,  ho  allowed  him  to  proceed 
without  farther  interruption,  closely  watching 
his  every  movement,  in  the  hope  that  he  might 
ho  able  to  discover  some  of  the  indications  by 
which  the  Inilian  was  guided.  Moving  lightly  fur- 
ward,  they  soon  had  occasion  again  to  cross  tho 
brook  before  mentioned ;  and  on  the  soft  edge 
of  its  hanks,  War-Eagle  pointed  in  silence  to  the 
track  of  the  largo  hoof  of  the  elk,  and  to  tlio 
smaller  print  left  by  the  feet  of  its  female  com- 
panions Desiring  Reginald  to  remain  sidl,  the 
Indian  now  crept  stealthily  forward  to  the  top 
of  a  small  hillock  covered  with  brushwood, 
where  he  lay  for  a  few  seconds  with  his  eat 
touching  the  ground.  Having  once  raised  hi« 
head  to  look  through  a  low  bush  in  front  of  hin\ 
he  sank  again  ufMin  the  ground,  and  made  asig' 
nal  fur  his  friend  to  creep  to  the  spot.  Regi 
nald  obeyed,  and  peering  cautiously  through  tho 
leaves  of  the  same  hush,  he  saw  the  stately  elk 
browsing  at  a  distance  of  a  hundred  and  fifty 
yards,  the  two  hinds  being  beyond  him  ;  the  in- 
tervening ground  being  barren  and  almost  fl^t, 
ofTering  no  cover  for  a  nca)°er  approach,  his  first 
impulse  was  to  raise  his  rifle  for  a  distant  shot ; 
but  War-Eagle,  gently  pressing  down  the  bar- 
rel, motioned  him  to  crouch  behind  the  bush. 
When  they  were  again  concealed,  the  Delaware 
whispered  to  his  friend,  that  he  would  go  round 
and  creep  on  the  elk  from  the  opposite  quarter. 

Reginald  in  reply  pointed  to  the  top  branches 
of  a  young  poplar  gently  waving  in  the  breeze. 

"  War-Eagle  knows  it,"  said  ihe  Indian  grave- 
ly, "the  wind  is  Croin  that  quarter;  it  is  not 
good  ;  but  he  will  try ;  if  elk  smell  him,  he 
comes  this  way,  and  Netis  shoot  him."  So  ssy- 
ing,  he  crept  down  the  little  hillock  by  the  sauie 
path  which  they  had  followed  in  ■  ascent,  and 
tben  striking  ofl'  in  an  oblique  direction  was 
soon  lost  to  view. 

Reginald,  still  concealed  behind  the  bush, 
silent  and  motionless,  with  his  hand  on  the  lock 
of  his  rifle,  watched  intently  every  movement 
of  the  antlered  monarch  of  the  woods ;  the  lat- 
tar,  unconscious  of  danger,  lazily  picked  the 
tenderest  shoots  from  the  surrounding  bushes, 
or  tossed  his  lolly  head  to  and  fro,  as  if  to  dis- 
play the  ease  and  grace  with  which  it  bore  those 
enormous  antlers.  More  than  once,  as  be  turned 
to  brush  off  from  his  side  some  troublesome  fly, 
Reginald  tbuiij:;ht  he  had  become  suddenly  aware 
of  the  Indian  s  approach ;  but  it  was  not  so,  for 
in  spite  of  the  disadvantage  of  the  wind,  the 
practised  Delaware  moved  towards  his  unsu8> 
pecting  prey  with  the  stealthy  creep  of  a  panther, 
Reginald's  impatience  was  such  that  minutes 
seemed  to  him  hours ;  and  his  fingers  played 
with  the  look  of  his  rifle,  as  if  he  could  no  longer 
control  their  movement ;  at  length  a  sudden 
snort  from  one  of  the  hinds  announced  that  sho 
smelt  or  heard  some  object  of  alarm  as  she  came 
trotting  to  the  side  of  her  lordly  protector. 

Turning  himself  to  windward,  and  throwing 
forward  his  ears,  the  elk  listened  for  a  moment, 
while  his  upturned  and  wide  distended  nostril 
snuffed  the  breeze,  to  discover  the  danger  of 
which  he  had  been  warned  by  his  mate.  That 
moment  was  not  lost  b_y  the  Delaware,  and  the 
report  of  his  rifle  echoed  through  the  forest. 
Tossing  his  head  with  a  sudden  start  the  elk 
fled  from  his  now  discovered  foe.  and  vm^-Q 


i 


i 
•  i 

'  a 

^9 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


T» 


bounding  over  the  barren  epace  in  front  of  the 
buali  where  Reginald  was  concealed.  With  a 
coolness  that  did  great  credit  to  his  nerves  as  a 
hunter,  the  latter  remained  motionless,  with  his 
eye  on  the  game  and  hm  finger  on  the  trigger, 
until  the  elk  pasted  his  station  at  speed ;  then 
he  fired,  and  with  so  true  an  aim,  that  ere  it  bad 
gone  fifty  yards,  the  noble  beast  fell  to  the  earth, 
and  immediately  Reginald's  hunting  knife  put  an 
end  to  its  pain  and  tu  its  life.  The  young  man 
looked  over  the  quarry  with  pride  and  pleasure, 
for  it  was  the  largest  he  had  ever  seen  ;  and  the 
shot  (which  had  pierced  the  heart)  was  well  cal- 
culated to  raise  War-Eagle's  opinion  of  his  skill 
in  wood-crafl.  While  he  was  still  contemplating 
the  animal's  bulk  and  fine  prooortions,  the  ex- 
clamation "  good  !"  uttered  in  English,  gavr>  him 
the  first  notice  that  the  Delaware  was  at  h      ide. 

"  Ha  !  my  friend,"  said  Reginald,  gras)  >iig  his 
hand  cordially;  "you  sent  him  down  towards 
me  in  fine  style.  Tell  me,  War-Eagle,  are  there 
many  elks  as  large  in  this  country  T" 

"  Not  many,"  replied  the  Indian ;  "  War- 
Eagle  told  his  w'liite  brother  that  the  elk's  foot 
on  the  trail  was  big." 

"  Was  my  brother  very  far  when  he  shot  V 
inquired  Reginald  ;  "  when  his  ritle  speaks,  the 
ball  does  not  winder  in  the  air." 

"War-Eagle  was  far,"  replied  the  Indian, 
quietly,  "  but  the  elk  carries  the  mark  of  his 
rifle — Netis  sho'  better;"  on  examination,  it 
appeared  that  th-  chief  was  right.  His  bullet 
had  passed  through  the  fleshy  part  of  the  ani- 
mal's n«'ok,  but  not  having  cut  the  windpipe, 
the  wound  was  not  mortal,  and  but  little  blood 
had  flowed  from  it. 

While  the  Indian  was  busied  in  skinning  and 
cutting  up  the  elk,  Reginald  amused  himself  by 
reconnoitring  the  ground  over  which  his  friend 
bad  crept  before  he  shot,  and  he  was  struck  by 
the  extraordinary  sagacity  with  which  >.he  lat- 
ter had  made  his  approach ;  for  on  that  side 
there  were  but  few  and  scattered  bushes,  nor 
was  there  any  rugged  or  broken  ground  favour- 
able for  concealment 

When  the  choicest  portions  of  meat  were  duly 
separated  and  enveloped  in  the  skin,  War-Ea- 
gle hung  them  up  on  an  adjacent  tree,  care- 
fully rubbing  damp  (wwder  over  the  covering, 
to  protect  the  meat  from  the  wolves  and  carrion 
birds;  alter  which  the  friends  proceede«.l  on 
their  excursion. 

Having  found  fresh  tracks  of  elk  leading  to- 
wards the  open  prairie,  they  followed  them,  and 
succeeded  in  killing  two  more,  after  which  they 
returned  to  the  encampment,  whence  War- 
Eagle  despatched  a  young  Indian  v.'!>.h  a  horse, 
and  with  direations  as  to  the  localiiv  of  the 
meat,  which  he  was  instructed  to  bring  home. 

As  Reginald  walked  through  the  lodges  of 
the  Osage  village,  he  observed  a  crowd  of  In- 
dians collected  before  one  of  them,  and  curiosi- 
ty prompted  him  to  turn  aside  and  observe  what 
might  he  passing.  Making  his  way  without  dif- 
ficulty through  the  outer  circle  of  spectators,  he 
found  himself  before  a  lodge,  in  front  of  which 
a  bounded  boy  of  twelve  or  fourteen  years  of 
age,  was  extended  on  a  bu(falo-ruhe.  On  in- 
quiry, Reginald  learned  from  an  Indian  who 
could  speak  a  few  words  of  English,  that  the 
lad  had  been  struck  down  and  trampled  on  by  a 
vicious  horse ;  although  no  sound  escaped  from 


his  lips,  the  involuntary  writhing  ( f  the  youth- 
ful sufferer  showed  the  acuteneas  of  the  pain 
which  be  endured  ;  while  a  bulky  Indian,  in  thn 
garb  of  an  Osago  Medicine-man,  wis  displaying 
beside  him  the  various  absurd  mi.rameries  of 
his  vocation. 

This  native  quack  was  naked  to  the  waist : 
hia  breast  and  back  being  painted  over  with 
representations  of  snakes  and  lizaids.  Instead 
of  the  usual  t>reech-cloth,  or  middle  garment, 
he  wore  a  kind  of  apron  of  antelope  skins, 
hemmed,  or  skirted  with  feathers  of  various 
colours :  the  borders  of  his  leggings  were  also 
adorned  with  the  wings  of  an  owl ;  in  one  hand 
he  hold  a  tomahawk,  the  hail  of  which  was 
painted  white,  and  in  the  other  a  hollow  gourd 
containing  a  few  hard  beans,  or  stones  of  the  wild 
cherry,  which  latter  instrument  ho  rattled  inces- 
santly round  the  head  of  his  patient,  accompa- 
nying this  .lEsculapian  music  wi*h  the  most 
grotesque  gesticulations,  and  a  son  of  moaning 
howl — all  these  being  intended  to  exorcise  and 
drive  away  the  evil  spirit  of  pain. 

While  Reginald  was  contemplating  the  strange 
spectacle  with  mingled  curiosity  and  compas- 
sion, he  heard  a  confused  murmur  among  those 
Indians  nearest  to  the  corner  of  the  lodge,  and 
thought  he  could  distinguish  th<3  name  of  Oliti- 
pa  ;  nor  was  he  mistaken,  for  almost  immedi- 
ately afterwards  the  crowd  divided,  and  Prairie- 
bird  appeared  before  the  lodge.  Her  dress  was 
the  same  as  that  in  which  Re^jinald  had  before 
seen  her,  excepting  that,  in  place  of  the  chaplet 
of  wild  flowers,  she  wore  on  her  head  a  turban 
of  party-coloured  silk,  the  picturesque  eflTect  of 
which,  blending  with  her  dark  hair  and  the  ori- 
ental character  of  her  beauty,  reminded  our  hero 
of  those  Circassian  enchantresses  whom  he  had 
read  of  in  eastern  fable,  as  ruling  satrap  or  sul- 
tan, with  a  power  more  despotic  than  his  own  - 
Prairie-bird,  walking  gently  forward  with 
modest  self-possession,  took  her  place  by  the 
side  of  the  sufTerer,  as  if  unconscious  of  the  nu- 
Uicrous  eyes  that  were  observing  all  her  move- 
ments ;  the  Medicine-man,  whose  exorcisms 
had  been  hitherto  attended  with  no  success, 
retreated  inio  the  lodge,  whence  he  narrowly 
and  silently  observed  the  proceedings  of  his  fair 
rival  in  tlie  healing  art. 

It  was  not  dilliculr  for  Prairie-bird  to  ascer- 
tain that  the  boy's  hurts  were  very  serious,  ibr 
the  hot  brow,  the  dry  lip,  the  involuntary  con- 
tortions of  the  frame,  gave  clear  evidence  of 
acute  pain  and  fever,  She  deeply  regretted 
that  the  Missionary  had  been  absent  when  she 
was  smnmoned,  as  his  assistance  would  have 
been  most  useful,  nevertheless,  she  resolved  to 
do  all  in  hei  power  towards  the  mitigation  of 
sufTerings,  the  cure  of  which  seemed  beyond 
the  reach  of  her  simple  remedies.  Opening  a 
bag  that  hung  at  her  girdle,  she  drew  from  it 
some  linrn  bandage,  and  various  salves  and 
simples,  together  with  a  small  case  of  instru- 
ments belonging  to  Paul  Muller,  and  kneeling 
by  her  young  patient';^  side,  she  breathed  a 
short,  but  earnest  prayer  for  the  blessing  of 
Heaven  on  her  humble  exertions.  During  this 
pause,  the  Indians  observed  a  strict  and  atten- 
tive silence  ;  and  Reginald  felt  a  kind  of  awe 
mingle  itself  with  his  impassioned  admiration, 
as  he  contemplated  the  unaffected  simplicity 
and  loveliness  of  her  kneeling  figuce. 


ki 


74 


THE    P  R  A 1  U I  E  -  D  I  R  D. 


A  scriDUs  wound  in  the  young  patient's  tnm- 
|iln  cliiiiiu'd  hfr  lir»t  i-aro,  whicli  h.ivinij  Wiished 
iind  closed,  slin  covi'ied  with  a  lu'aliiiB  plastnr, 
but  oiiscrvui)}  tliat  the  syrii|)ioriiH  of  Icvrr  hHil 
iralhcr  Incieancd  thandiiuuii'Hhi.'d,  she  Idiew  th'it 
the  iitiKret  iihuuld  ho  iiiiiiHMhu*ely  a|i|ilied,  and 
oasl  tier  anxious  eyes  avuiind  in  ilic  hope  tliat 
tlio  misionary  might  have  heard  of  the  aceuSenl, 
and  he  now  on  hi«  way  lo  ihi  h)dge.  While 
looking  thua  around,  she  hecame  lor  the  (irst 
time  aware  of  Jletfinald's  presonco,  and  a  slight 
blush  ncconipanied  her  reeognition  of  him  ;  but 
ber  thoughts  recurring  immediately  to  the  ol>- 
ject  of  her  present  attention,  she  asluil  liim  in 
a  clear  low  voico  to  come  nearer,  o.i  which  he 
moved  forward  from  the  circle  of  apectators, 
und  stood  belbiu  the  kidgo. 

P.airie-bird,  pointing;  to  the  form  of  the  young 
Indian,  said  in  lilnglish,  "The  poor  boy  is  nmch 
hurt,  !ie  will  die  if  he  is  not  bled;  the  Black 
Father  is  absent ;  can  Reginald  ir^ke  blood  from 
the  arm  !'" 

"I  do  not  pretend  to  much  skill  in  surgery, 
fair  Prairie-bird,"  replifd  iho  young  man,  smi- 
ling; "  i)Ut  1  have  learned  to  bleed  my  horse 
and  my  dog,  and  il  the  ncccsoify  be  urgent,  me- 
thinks  I  can  open  a  vein  In  this  boy's  arm  with- 
out much  risk  of  danger  " 

"It  is  indeed  xrgent,"  said  'he  maiden,  ear- 
liest ly  ;  "here  are  PauliMulk-r's  instruments,  I 
pray  you  take  a  lancet  aird  proceed  without  de- 
lay- 
Thus  urged,  Reginald  selected  a  lancet,  and 
having  proved  its  sharpueas,  lie  pa.s°Cu  a  nand- 
age  tiglrlly  round  tlie  suflererV  arm,  and  set 
about  his  first  surgical  operatiju  with  becoming 
care  and  gravity,  the  Osage s  drawing  near  and 
looking  on  in  attentive  silence.  Uelore  apply- 
ing the  lancet,  he  said  in  a  low  voice  to  Prairie- 
bird,  "  Must  I  allow  a  considerable  quantity  of 
blood  to  flow  'ere  T  btaunch  itl"  and  on  her 
making  an  affirnr.tive  sign,  he  added,  "  Let  nie 
entreyt  you  to  turn  your  eyes  away,  it  is  not  a 
htting  dight  for  them,  and  they  might  affect  the 
steadiness  of  my  nerves." 

With  a  deep  blush  Prairie-bird  cast  down  her 
«ye8,  and  began  to  employ  them  busily  in  search- 
ing her  little  bag  for  some  cordial  drinks  and 
healing  ointment,  to  be  administered  after  the 
bleeding  should  b(>  over. 

Reginald  acquitted  himself  of  his  task  with 
skill  and  with  complete  success,  and  found  no 
difficulty  in  staunching  the  blood,  and  placing  a 
proper  bandage  on  the  arm  ;  after  which  the 
restoratives  prepared  by  Prairie-bird  were  ap- 
plied, and  in  a  very  short  time  they  had  the 
satisfaction  of  finding  the  symptoms  of  fever 
and  pain  subside.  ar>.J  were  able  to  leave  the 
youthful  patient  to  rcpose.  Prairie-bird  promis- 
ing to  visit  him  again  on  thi;  morrow. 

An  elderly  brave  of  the  Usages  now  stepped 
forward,  and  presented  Prairie-bird  with  a  gir- 
dle of  cloth,  ornamented  with  feathers,  quills, 
and  beads  of  the  gayest  colours,  an  offering 
■which  she  received  with  that  modest  grace 
which  was  inseparable  from  her  every  move- 
ment;  the  same  brave  (who  was,  in  faot,  the 
father  of  the  wounded  bciy).,  presented  Reginald 
with  a  painted  buffalo  robe,  which,  ar,  soon  as 
he  had  displayed  its  strange  designs  and  devi- 
ces, he  desired  a  young  Indian  to  convey  to  the 
white  cbief's  lodge.    Our  hero  having,  in  re- 


turn, given  to  the  Osage  n  knife  with  an  orna- 
incrited  MJirath,  which  he  had  worn,  in  aildition 
to  \m  own,  in  (^ase  of  being  suililenly  called 
npoir  to  iTiaki'  such  a  pr«'8ent,  prepared  to  ao< 
coinpiiiiy  Praine-bird  to  her  lodge. 

Aw  Ihcy  lell  the  circle,  Reginald's  eye  cn- 
nountereil  that  of  Mnlnifa,  UxeU  with  a  scowling 
expression  on  himself  and  his  fair  companion, 
but  he  passed  on  without  noticin,>|  the  sullen 
and  hauglily  chief,  bring  resolved  not  to  involve 
hims^clf  Ml  iiny  quarrel  in  her  presence.  They 
walked  slowly  !<'ward8  the  lodge  ol  Tamcnuird, 
and  it  must  be  confessed  that  they  did  not  take 
exactly  the  shortest  path  to  it,  Reginald  leading 
the  way,  and  Prairie-bird  following  his  occa- 
sional deviations  with  marvelluu*  acquies- 
cence 

The  young  man  turned  the  conversation  on 
the  character  of  Paul  Miiller,  knowing  it  to  ho 
a  subject  agreeable  to  Prairie-bird,  and  well  cal- 
culated to  give  him  an  opportunity  of  listening 
to  that  voice  whicli  was  already  music  to  his 
ear;  nor  was  he  diHappointed,  for  she  spoke  of 
him  with  all  the  warmth  of  the  most  uti'ection- 
ate  regard  ;  and  the  expression  of  her  feelings 
imparted  ouch  elo<|uence  to  her  tongue  and  to 
her  beaming  eyes,  that  Reginald  looked  and 
listened  in  enraptured  silence.  As  they  drew 
near  her  t(;nl,  shn  suddenly  checked  herself,  and 
looking  lip  in  his  face  with  an  urchness  that 
was  irresistible,  said,  "  Pray  pardon  me,  I  have 
been  talking  all  this  time,  when  I  ought  to  have 
been  listening  to  you,  who  are  so  much  WMcr 
than  myself" 

■'  .Say  not  so,"  replied  lieginaid,  with  an  ear- 
nestness that  he  attempted  not  to  conceal ; 
"  say  not  so,  I  only  regvet  that  we  have  already 
reached  your  tent,  for  1  should  never  be  weary 
of  listening  to  your  voice." 

Prairie-bird  replie<l  with  that  ingenuous  sim- 
plicity peculiar  to  ner : 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  for  I  know 
you  8()eak  the  truth,  and  it  maken  mfe  very  hap- 
py to  give  yuu  pleasure ;  now  )  must  gu  into 
my  tent." 

So  saying  she  held  out  her  hand  to  him,  and 
nothing  but  the  presence  of  several  Indiana  loi- 
tering near,  prevented  his  obeying  the  impulse 
which  prompted  him  to  press  it  to  his  lips; 
checking  it  by  an  effort  of  prudence,  he  with- 
drew into  the  lodge  of  Tamenund,  and  mused 
on  the  qualities  of  this  extraordinary  child  of 
the  wilderness,  her  beauty,  her  grace,  her  dig- 
nity, and  above  all.  that  guileless  simplicity  that 
distinguished  her  beyond  all  that  ho  had  ever 
seen  ;  in  short,  he  mused  so  long  on  the  subject 
that  we  will  leave  him  to  his  meditations,  as 
we  fear  it  must  he  confessed  that  he  was  al- 
most, if  not  quite,  "  in  love,"  and  the  reflection.s 
of  parties  so  circumstanced,  are  rarely  interest- 
ing to  others. 

What  were  the  feelings  of  Prairie-bird  when 
she  once  more  found  herself  alone  in  her  tent, 
and  vainly  endeavoured  to  still  the  unwontcil 
tumult  in  her  heart !  Her  thoughts,  in  spita  of 
herself,  would  dwell  on  the  companion  who  had 
escorted  her  from  the  Osage  lodge  ;  his  words 
still  rang  in  her  eats ;  his  image  was  before  her 
eyes ;  she  felt  ashamed  that  one,  almost  a 
stranger,  should  thus  absorb  all  her  facultie.s, 
and  was  the  more  ashamed  from  being  con- 
scious that  she  did  not  wish  it  were  otherwise ; 


THE  PRAIRIRBIRD. 


n 


III  an  nrna- 
III  HilUiiion 
filly  eallud 
a  red  to  ao< 

I'b  cyo  cn- 
■,\  siMiwIing 
'iifii|mni(iti, 

tll<-    SIllltMi 
il  tdlllVdlvi! 

ire.  Thoy 
I'aiiicnuiid, 
Jid  nut  take 
iiald  leading 
Ilia  oRca- 
acquic8> 

rersation  on 

ing  it  to  lio 

nd  well  cal- 

of  listening 

iiusic  to  his 

III.'  apoke  ot 

lilt  utliictiun- 

tuT  feelings 

ngiie  and  tu 

luoked  and 

18  they  drew 

t  licrtieir,  and 

rchiiess  that 

n  ine,  I  have 

iigUt  to  have 

niueh  WMtcr 

with  an  car- 
ta conceal ; 
have  already 
ver  be  wearj' 

igenuous  sim- 

o,  fur  I  know 
mfe  very  hap- 
iiiust  go  into 

id  to  him,  and 
al  Iiidiano  loi- 
g  the  impulse 
t  to  his  lips; 
jnce,  he  with- 
d,  and  mused 
inary  child  of 
[race,  her  dig- 
iiimphcity  that 
t  he  had  ever 
on  the  subject 
leditations,  as 
at  he  was  al- 
the  ret)ectioii4 
arely  interest- 

irie-bird  when 
16  in  her  tent, 
the  unwonted 
lits,  in  spite  of 
miun  who  had 
ije ;  his  words 
Afas  befure  her 
ine,  almost  a 
her  faculties, 
>m  being  con- 
ire  otherwise ; 


hrr  lirnrt  told  hrr  that  it  would  not  rxi-hnnge 
its  |.rpsenl  state  ortiniinlt  and  Hiil>jection  for  its 
fbniior  coiiilitiiin  of(|iiiPl  and  pracii ! 

Lest  the  rcadc  hhould  he  inclined  to  judge 
hrr  as  harshly  as  nln'  jmlyod  I'Tself,  wo  will 
beg  liiui  '•)  remember  the  c'n'  Cannes  and 
history  of  this  singular  girl.  ])i<>(i;4iit  up  among 
a  roving  tribe  of  Indians,  she  li.iil  fortiinatnly 
•alien  into  the  hands  of  a  laiiuly  remarkable  for 
the  highest  virtues  exhibited  by  that  people ; 
the  niissloniiry,  Paul  Midler,  had  cultivated  her 
iindnrstanding  with  the  most  aflectionate  and 
zealous  care ;  and  ho  was,  with  the  exception 
of  an  occasional  trader  visiting  the  tribe,  almost 
the  only  man  of  her  own  race  whom  she  had 
seen  ;  and  though  entertaining  towards  Tamo- 
nund  the  gratitude  which  his  kindness  to  her 
deserved,  and  towards  War-Eagle  and  Winge- 
niiiid  the  afTeitlnnate  rn);ard  of  a  sister,  both 
the  knowledge  imparted  by  the  missionary,  and 
tier  own  instinctive  feeling  had  taught  her  to 
consider  herself  among  them  as  a  separate  and 
isolated  being.  These  feelings  she  had  of 
course  nourished  in  secret,  but  thry  had  not  al- 
together escaped  the  penetration  of  Wingenund, 
who,  it  may  be  remembered,  had  told  Ueginalil 
on  their  first  meeting  that  the  antelope  was  as 
likely  to  pair  with  the  elk,  as  was  his  s  stcr  to 
choose  a  mate  among  the  chiefs  of  the  Usage 
or  the  Lenape. 

On  the  return  of  tho  two  Delawares  from 
bcir  excursion  to  the  Mnskiii({iim,  Wingenund 
oad  related  to  Prairiebird  the  heroic  gallantry 
with  which  the  young  while  chief  had  plunged 
into  the  river  to  save  War-Eagle's  life  ;  he  had 
vtinted,  with  untutored  hut  impassioned  elo- 
quence, the  courage,  the  gentleness,  the  gener- 
osity, of  his  new  friend.  Prairie-bird's  own 
imagination  had  filled  up  the  picture,  and  the 
unseen  preserver  of  her  Indian  brother  was 
therein  associated  with  all  the  highest  qualities 
.<tat  adorned  the  heroes  of  such  tales  as  she  had 
read  or  heard  recounted  by  the  missionary. 

She  had  reached  that  age  when  the  female 
heart,  unsupported  by  maternal  protection,  and 
severed  from  the  ties  of  kindred,  naturally  seeks 
for  something  on  which  to  rest  its  affection. 
Are  we  then  to  wonder  if,  when  Reginald  Bran- 
don first  stood  before  her,  when  she  saw  in  his 
noble  form  and  expressive  features  all  her  se- 
cret imaginations  more  than  realized,  when  he 
addressed  her  in  her  own  tongue,  and  in  a  tone 
of  voice  gentle  even  to  tenderness ;  are  we  to 
wonder,  or  to  blame,  this  nursling  of  the  wil- 
derness, if  the  barriers  of  pride  and  reserve  gave 
way  beneath  the  flood  winch  swept  over  them 
with  fresh  and  irresistible  force?  Often  had 
she,  on  various  pretexts,  made  Wingenund  re- 
peat to  her  the  adventures  and  occurrences  of 
his  excursion  to  the  Ohio ;  and  as  the  artless  boy 
described,  in  language  as  clear  as  his  memory 
was  tenacious,  the  dwelling  of  Reginald's  father, 
the  range  of  buildings,  the  strange  furniture,  the 
garden,  the  winding  brook  that  bounded  its  en- 
closure, and  above  all  the  fair  features  and  win- 
ning gentleness  of  the  Lily  of  MooShanne, 
Prairie-bird  would  cover  her  averted  face  with 
her  hands,  as  if  struggling  to  banish  or  to  recal 
some  wild  delusive  dream,  and  her  lips  would 
move  in  unconscious  repetition  of  "  Mooshan- 
ne."  Surprised  at  her  agitation,  Wingenund 
had  once  so  far  laid  aside  the  strictness  of  In- 


dian reserve  as  to  inquire  Into  its  cause,'  and 
she  npliecl,  with  a  mcliincholy  smile, 

"  M'ingeniinil  has  paimcil  the  I.ily  of  Moon- 
hanne  in  colitiirs  so  soil  mnl  sweet,  that  Olitipn 
longs  to  embrace  and  love  her  as  a  sister." 

The  boy  fixed  his  pcnelratini;  eye  upon  her 
coiinlciiancc,  in  deep  expressivit  silence,  hut 
the  iniiatedelicacy  of  his  feeling  triumphed,  and 
Prairie. bird's  secret  meditations  were  thence- 
forward undisturbed. 

To  return  from  this  retrospective  digression. 
Prairii'bird'stent  was  dividcil,  by  a  partition  of 
b.  .Tlilo  skins,  inio  two  compartments,  in  the 
outer  of  which  were  her  guitar,  the  books  Icit 
her  by  the  missiimary,  a  small  table  and  two 
chairs  or  rather  stools,  the  latter  rudely  but  ef- 
fiiiently  constructed  by  his  own  hiimls  ;  in  tho 
corner  also  stood  the  chest,  where  his  medi- 
cines, instruments,  ai,d  other  fe'.v  valuables 
were  deposited  ;  in  the  Inner  compartment  was 
a  bed,  composed  of  Mexican  grass,  stretched 
upon  four  wooden  feet,  and  covered  with  dress- 
ed antelope  skins  and  blankets  of  the  fliiest 
quality.  Here  also  was  a  chest  containing  her 
quaint  hut  not  ungraceful  apparel,  and  the  other 
requisites  for  her  simple  toilet ;  al  n-ght  a  fe- 
male .ve,  a  captive  taken  from  one  of  the 
southern  tribes,  slept  in  the  outer  compartment, 
and  the  ever  watchful  Wingenund  stretched 
himself  on  a  bufTalo  robe  across  the  aperture, 
so  that  the  slumbers  of  the  fair  Prairie  bird 
were  securely  guarded  even  during  the  absence 
of  Paul  Miiller ;  and  when  he  was  with  tho 
tribe,  his  small  tent  was  separated  from  hers 
only  by  a  partition  of  skins,  which  in  Oiise  of 
alarm  might  bo  cut  open  by  a  sharp  knife  in  i 
moment  There  was,  in  truth,  little  fear  for 
the  security  of  this  extraordinary  girl,  who  was 
looked  upon,  as  we  have  hclbre  observed,  by  all 
the  tribe  with  mingled  awe  and  affection. 

In  the  outer  of  the  two  compartments  above- 
mentioned  she  was  now  sitting,  *ith  her  eyes 
cast  upon  the  ground,  and  her  fingers  straying 
unconsciously  over  the  strings  of  her  guitar, 
when  she  was  aroused  from  her  lung  reverie  tv 
the  soft  voice  of  the  female  slave  who  had  er^ 
tered  unperceived,  and  who  now  said  in  the 
Delaware  tongue, 

"  Are  Olitipa's  ears  shut,  and  is  the  voice  of 
Wingenund  strange  to  them  1" 

"Is  my  brother  there  1"  replied  the  maiden, 
ashamed  at  her  fit  of  absence ;  "  tell  him,  Lita, 
that  he  is  welcome." 

The  girl  addressed  by  the  name  of  Lita  was 
about  seventeen  years  of  age,  small,  and  deli- 
cately formed,  exceedingly  dark,  her  wild  and 
changeful  countenance  being  rather  of  a  gipsy 
than  of  an  odirin  character.  She  had  been  ta- 
ken, wheu  a  ■lii.";,  by  a  war-party  which  had 
penetrated  int>  r.h'  country  of  the  Comanches, 
a  powerl^i'  mi  warlike  tribe  still  inhabiting  the 
extensive  prjiities  on  the  Mexican  and  Tex- 
ian  frontier.  She  was  devotedly  attached  to 
Prairie-bird,  who  treated  her  more  like  a  friend 
than  a  slave,  but  towards  all  others  she  obser- 
ved a  habitual  and  somewhat  haughty  silence ; 
had  her  fate  condemned  her  to  any  other  lodge 
in  the  encampment,  the  poor  girl's  life  would 
have  been  a  continued  succession  of  blows,  la- 
bour, and  suflTering ;  for  her  spirit  was  indomi- 
table, and  impracticable  to  every  other  control 
than  kindness ;  but  as  the  good-humoured  Ta 


>l 


w 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


menund  had  appropriated  her  Mrvicea  to  hia 
favuurite  child,  abe  paaaed  muat  of  hrr  tune  in 
Olitipa'a  tent,  and  thus  avoided  the  illuaago  to 
which  she  might  othurwiae  have  been  pxpoaed. 

Such  was  ibe  girl  who  now  went  to  ihe  fold- 
ing aperture  or  the  tvnt,  and  deaired  Wingnn- 
und  to  come  in.  The  youth  entered,  followed 
by  a  boy  bearing  a  largo  covered  diih  or  baaket 
of  wicker-work,  which  having  placed  on  the 
tahlf,  he  withdrew.  Pruirie-bird  could  not  fail 
to  obaerve  in  her  young  brother'a  countenance 
and  carriage  an  unuaual  atatelinoM  and  dignity, 
and  ahe  reniarkod  at  the  aaine  time,  the  oircum- 
atanoe  of  hia  having  brought  with  him  the  boy 
to  carry  her  baaket,  a  aorvioe  which  hn  bad 
been  accustomed  to  perform  with  hia  own  handa. 
Making  him  a  aign  to  ait  down,  she  Ihua  accoat- 
ed  him  in  tornia  allusive  to  the  customa  of  the 
tribe : — 

"  HaH  my  young  brother  dreamed  !  has  the 
breath  of  the  Great  Spirit  passed  over  his 
aleep?" 

"  It  is  so,"  replied  Wingenund.  "  The  chiefs 
and  tlie  braves  have  sat  at  the  council-fire ;  the 
name  ofWingenund  was  on  their  tongues,  tlie 
deeds  of  his  fathers  are  not  forgotten ;  he  is  not 
to  do  the  work  of  sijuaws;  his  name  will  be 
heard  among  the  warriors  of  the  Lenapc." 

From  this  reply  Prairie-bird  knew  that  her 
young  brother  was  about  to  undergo  the  fasting 
and  oilier  superatitiuus  ordeals,  through  which 
those  vouths  were  made  to  pass  who  wished  to 
be  enrolled  among  the  warriors  of  the  tril)e  at 
an  ealier  age  than  usual;  these  superstitious 
oberviinces  were  repugnant  to  her  good  sense 
and  e  ilighlened  understanding,  and  as  she  had 
hitheito  acted  in  the  capacity  of  monitrcas  and 
instructress,  she  was  perhaps  not  pleased  at  the 
p;ospect  of  his  suddenly  breaking  loose  from 
her  ifentle  dominion ;  she  said  to  hint,  there- 
fore, in  u  tone  more  grave  than  usual : 

"  Wingenund  has  heard  the  Black-Father 
speak ;  were  his  eara  shut  ]  does  he  not  know 
that  there  is  one  God  above,  who  rules  the 
world  alone !  the  totems,*  and  the  symbols,  and 
the  dreams  of  the  medicine-men,  are  for  those 
poor  Indians  whose  minds  are  under  a  cloud, 
wingenund  cannot  believe  these  things !" 

"  My  sister  speaks  wisely,"  replied  the  youth ; 
"  the  wind  cannot  blow  away  her  words ;  but 
Wingenund  is  of  the  Lenape,  the  ancient  people ; 
he  wlahes  to  live  and  die  among  their  braves  ; 
he  must  travel  in  the  path  that  his  fathers  have 
trod,  or  the  warriors  will  not  call  bis  name  when 
the  hatchet  is  dug  up." 

"  Let  not  the  hatchet  be  dug  up,"  said  the 
Diaiden,  anxiously,  "  Have  I  not  told  my  bro- 
ther that  God  is  the  avenger  of  blood  spilt  by 
man !  why  ahould  his  foot  be  set  on  the  war- 
path 1" 

"While  the  hatchet  is  below  the  earth," 
replied  the  youth,  in  the  low,  musical  accent  of 
bis  tribe,  "Wingenund  will  sit  by  his  sister  and 
listen  to  her  wisdom ;  he  will  go  out  with  War- 
Eagle  and  bring  back  the  skin  of  the  antelope 


\  i; 


*  Every  wnrrior  bKlnnging  to  the  Lennpc.  Saulcee,  nnd 
all  Ihe  branches  of  the  grciit  Chlppcwynn  tril)e.  bellevea 
himself  to  be  under  the  mysterious  Kunnlianship  of  some 
ipirlt,  usually  represented  under  the  form  of  nn  nnimal. 
This  is  culled  his  "totem,"  and  is  held  sncred  by  him; 
thus,  n  warrior  whose  totem  is  a  tortoise,  or  «  wolf,  or 
•ven  a  snake,  will  cautiously  abstain  fiom  Injurlni  or 
kllUag  «ne  of  thou  anlmaU. 


or  the  doe  for  her  npparel,  the  meat  of  the  dMr 
and  the  hisou  foi  h<>r  food  ;  he  will  open  hi* 
ears  to  th>  joup^J  if  t*^e  Black -F.tther,  and 
wdl  throw  a  th'")'.  blanket  over  thou^iots  of  strife 
and  blood.  Hir  I'le  '..  j«t"iihef>"  (the  Osage) 
"  bears  a  forkeii  >  >riKi..<,"  (here  the  youth  sank 
his  voice  to  a  whisper  of  deep  meaning,)  "  if  he 
loosens  the  scalp-knife  whil  his  hand  is  on  the 
poaoan,'  if  the  trail  of  the  Dahcotah  is  fuund 
near  our  village,  Wingenund  must  be  awake ; 
he  is  not  a  child ;  the  young  men  will  hear  his 
voice,  and  the  old  men  shall  say  "  He  is  tho 
son  of  hi*  father."  It  is  enough ;  let  my  sister 
eat  the  meat  that  War- Eagle  has  sent  her ;  for 
three  suns  Wingenund  tastes  not  fo«)d." 

So  saying,  Ihe  lad  threw  his  robe  over  bis 
shoulder  and  I'^lt  the  tent.  Prairie-bird  gazed 
long  and  thougiitl'ully  on  the  spot  where  htr 
brother's  retreating  >>i(ure  had  disappeared  ;  aim 
felt  grieved  that  all  tlio  leoauns  and  truths  of 
Christianity  which  she  had  endeavoured  to 
instil  into  his  mind,  were  unable  to  change  the 
current  of  his  Indian  blood;  she  had  hoped  to 
see  him  become  a  ctvilizod  man  and  a  convert, 
and  through  his  amiable  character,  and  the 
weight  of  his  name,  to  win  over  many  others 
of  the  Lenape  tribe ;  in  addition  to  this  disap- 
pointment, she  was  alarmed  at  the  purport  of 
his  parting  words ;  he  had  hinted  at  somo 
treachery  on  the  part  of  their  Usage  allies,  and 
that  a  trail  of  the  Uahootahs  had  been  seen 
near  the  encampment.  These  subjects  of  anx- 
iety, added  to  the  excitement  which  her  feel- 
ings had  lately  undergone,  so  completely  en- 
grossed the  maiden's  attention,  that,  although 
the  corn-cakes  were  of  the  sweetest  kind,  and 
the  venison  of  the  most  delicate  flavour,  tho 
basket  of  provisions  remained  untouched  on  the 
table  when  Paul  Miiller  entered  the  tent. 

His  brow  was  grave  and  thoughtful,  but  his 
countenance  relaxed  into  its  usual  benevolent 
expression,  as  his  affectionate  pupil  sprang  fur- 
ward  to  greet  and  welcome  him. 

"  Dear  father,  I  am  so  glad  you  are  come  !" 
she  exclaimed;  "I  have  been  waiting  for  you 
most  impatiently,  and  I  have  been  in  need  of 
your  aid." 

"  I  beard,  my  child,  as  I  walked  through  the 
village,  that  you  had  been  tending  the  wounds 
of  a  boy  n^uch  hurt  by  a  horse ;  was  tho  hurt 
beyond  your  skill  1" 

"  Not  exactly,"  she  replied,  besitatii^g.  "  It 
was  needful  that  blood  should  flow  from  his 
arm,  and,  aa  you  were  not  there,  I  was  forced 
to  ask  the  assistance  of  Netis— that  is,  of  Regi- 
aM." 

"  Well,"  said  the  missionary,  smiling,  "  I 
hope  he  proved  a  skilful  leech  V 

"  He  would  not  allow  me  to  look  on,"  she 
replied ;  "  but,  though  it  was  his  first  trial,  be 
drew  the  blood  and  staunched  it  as  skilfully  aa 
you  could  have  done  it  yourself,  and  then  he 
walked  with  me  to  the  tent." 

"  And  you  conversed  much  by  tho  way,"  en 
quired  the  missionary. 

"  Oh  yea ;  and  he  made  me  tell  him  a  great 
deal  about  you,  and  I  was  ashamed  of  talking 
so  much  ;  but  then  he  told  me  that  it  gave  him 
pleasure  to  hear  me  talk.  How  can  it  please 
him  to  hear  me  talk,  dear  father  1  I  know  noth 
ing,  and  he  has  seen  and  read  so  much." 


*Jlnglici,"  the  fife," 


without 
■worldly 
^onsiderat 
to  the  mai 

"My 
cities  and 
are  many 
Keginald 
cidental  i 
singularly 
to  me  to  ] 
ties  of  a 
heart :  ne 
even  in 
have  told 
and  wayv 
on  your  e; 
will  rule 
more  on 
f(>od  from 
bird  spree 
and  wbei 
on  it,  the 
of  some 
anxiety  o 
gpnund 
some  of  t 
of  a  bos 
the  enoa 
missiona 
proacbin 


I 


f  thfl  deer 
opvn  hi* 
'.tlher,  and 
III*  of  itrifn 
the  Otagn) 
youth  tank 
ing.) "  if  he 
id  ia  on  tho 
tih  ia  fuiind 
he  awake ; 
ill  hear  his 
He  ia  tho 
Bt  my  aiater 
lit  her ;  fur 
■od." 
Im)  over  his 
bird  ijazcd 
whert)  htr 
peari'd ;  aim 
irulha   of 
savoured  tu 
cliungo  the 
ad  hoped  to 
a  convert, 
or,  and   the 
iiiuny  othera 
u  lliia  diiiap- 
u  purport  ol' 
ed  at  some 
;c  aliicB,  and 
.1   been  accii 
JL-cts  of  anx- 
icli  her  feel- 
inipletely  en- 
hat,  although 
eat  kind,  and 
i  flavour,  tho 
lucbed  on  the 
le  tent, 

;htful,  but  his 
al  benevolent 
lil  aprang  fur- 

I  are  come !" 
tiling  for  you 
n  in  need  of 

I  through  the 
;  the  wounds 
was  the  hurt 

sitating.  "  It 
low  from  his 
I  waa  forced 
at  ia,  of  Regi* 

amiling,  "  I 

ook  on,"  ahe 
firat  trial,  be 

IS  skilfully  as 
and  then  he 

;ho  way,"  en 

I  him  a  great 
ed  of  talking 
it  it  gave  him 
can  it  please 
I  know  noth 
much." 


THE  PRAIRIK.BIRD. 


77 


Paul  Midler  averted  his  face  for  a  moment  ro 
conceal  frtin  her  the  smile  which  he  could 
scarcely  rcpriMs,  as  ho  rcplitMl, 

"  My  chilli,  he  haa  perhaps  aeen  and  read 
much,  but  (he  life  and  liubils  of  the  Indiaiis  are 
new  to  him,  and  of  these  you  can  tell  him  many 
tiiin((!i  that  lif  docs  nut  know." 

"i'ell  me, dear  latliiT,  'she  said,  aOerashort 
Alienee,  "are  there  otbfrs  like  bini  in  my  coun- 
try! I  mean,  not  exactly  like  him,  but  more 
like  him  than  the  trailers  whom  I  have  seen ; 
ihoy  are  so  rough,  and  they  drink  fire-water, 
and  they  nnver  think  of  (iod  or  his  mercies ; 
hut  he  is  so  noble,  his  countenance  made  me 
afraid  at  flist,  but  now,  when  he  speaks  to  mc, 
his  voice  i»  as  gentle  as  the  fawn  calling  to  its 
dam !" 

Paul  Midler  saw  very  well  how  it  fareil  with 
tlie  heart  of  Prairie-bird ;  he  remembered  that 
llcginald  was  the  son  of  a  wealthy  proprietor, 
who  would  probably  have  insuperable  objections 
to  his  Bon'a  marrying  a  foiindllDg  of  the  wilder- 
ness, and  he  hesitated  whether  he  should  not 
jjive  her  some  warning  (aution  on  a  subject 
which  he  foresaw  would  so  soon  affect  her 
peace  of  mind  ;  on  the  other  hand,  he  was  con- 
vinced that  RcgiiKild  was  a  man  of  generous 
and  decided  character,  and,  while  he  resolved 
carefully  to  observe  the  intercourse  between 
tlium,  he  Would  not  mar  the  unsuspecting  purity 
of  her  nature,  nor  throw  any  <ib8taclc  in  the 
way  of  an  aitaohment  which  he  believed  might 
'tad  to  the  happiness  of  both  parties.  In  com- 
ing to  tliia  conclusion,  it  must  not  bo  forgotten 
(bat  he  was  a  Moravinn  missionary,  long  resi- 
dent in  the  Fur-west,  and,  therefore,  noi  likely 
to  (rouble  his  head  with  the  nice  dislinctiiins  of 
European  aristocracy.  In  the  country  which 
was  now  his  home,  he  might  be  justified  in 
deeming  a  match  equal,  if  tho  man  were  honest 
and  brave  and  the  bride  young  and  virtuous, 
without  reference  to  their  birth,  connexions,  or 
'worldly  possessions.  Under  the  impression  of 
considerations  like  these,  the  missionary  replied 
tu  the  maiden's  enquiry  - 

"  My  child,  I  will  not  say  iiiat  among  the 
citiea  and  settlements  of  the  white  men,  there 
are  many  who  would  gnin  by  comparison  with 
Keginald  Brandon,  for  not  only  has  he  the  ac- 
cidental advantages  of  fine  features,  and  a  form 
singularly  graceful  and  athletic,  but  he  seems 
to  me  to  possess  the  far  higher  and  rarer  quali- 
ties of  a  modest,  generous  mind,  and  an  honest 
lieart :  nevertheless,  my  child,  I  will  pray  you 
even  in  respect  to  him,  not  to  forget  what  I 
have  told  you  regarding  the  general  infirmity 
and  waywardness  of  our  nature,  keep  a  watch 
on  your  eyes  and  on  your  heart,  and  jProvidence 
will  rule  all  for  tho  best: — we  will  speak  no 
more  on  this  subject  now;  let  us  take  some 
food  from  the  basket  on  your  table."  Prairie- 
bird  spread  the  simple  meal  in  thoughtful  silence, 
and  when  tho  missionary  had  asked  a  blessing 
on  it,  they  sat  down  together.  Alter  a  pause 
of  some  minutes  she  communicated  to  him  her 
anxiety  on  account  of  the  hints  dropped  by  Win- 
genund  respecting  the  suspected  treachery  of  | 
some  of  their  Osage  allies,  and  the  circums-tance 
of  a  hostile  trail  having  been  discovered  near 
the  encampment.  "  It  is  too  true,"  replied  the 
missionary  gravely ;  "  there  arc  signs  of  ap- 
proaching strife;  and  even  that  boy,  whom  I 


have  so  lung  endeavoured  to  instruct  and  lead 
aright,  his  blood  is  beglnnirtg  to  lioil.  I  fear  it 
is  iiluiost  as  hard  for  an  liidmn  to  change  hia 
nature  as  an  Kthiopjan  his  bkin  He  has  iM 
you  the  trutb,  and  we  must  be  prepared  for  ap- 
proaching trouble." 

Aftt-r  musing  for  a  few  moments,  Paul  Miil- 
ler.  fixing  his  eye  on  Prairiebird,  continued : 
■■  Do  you  know  any  cause  of  quarrel  between 
the  Osage  and  I<enapfl  chief's  t" 

"  None,"  replied  the  maiden  in  unaffected 
surprise.  "  How  should  1  know  1  1  go  not  near 
their  council-fire." 

"True,"  said  the  missionary;  "but  your 
eyes  are  not  often  shut  in  broad  day.  Have 
you  spoken  to  Mahega  of  latol  have  you  ob- 
servecl  him  I" 

"  He  has  spoken  to  mo  more  than  once,  and 
often  meets  me  on  my  return  from  any  far 
lodge  in  the  village.  I  do  not  like  him ;  he  ii 
fierce  and  bad,  and  he  beats  his  young  squaw, 
Wetopa." 

"  You  are  right,  my  child ;  avoid  him ;  there 
is  evil  in  that  man  ;  but  if  you  meet  him,  do  not 
show  any  dislike  or  suspicion  of  him ;  you 
would  only  kindle  strife ;  you  are  among  faith- 
ful and  watchful  friends,  and  if  they  were  all  to 
slumber  and  sleep,  you  have  a  Friend  above, 
whose  eye  is  never  closed,  and  whose  faithful- 
ness is  everlasting.  Farewell,  my  child.  I 
must  converse  awhile  with  Tamenund.  Do 
you  solace  an  hour  with  your  guitar ;  it  will  put 
your  unquiet  thoughts  to  rest." 

Prairie-bird  was  so  accustomed  to  pay  implicit 
obedience  to  the  slightest  wishes  and  si  (ges- 
tions  of  her  beloved  preceptor,  that  as  he  lell 
the  tent  she  mechanically  took  up  the  guitar, 
and  passed  her  fingers  through  the  strings.  By 
degrees  the  soul  of  music  within  her  was  stirred, 
and  ere  long  vented  itself  in  the  following  hymn 

The  words  were  in  the  Delaware  tongu.,  ti.d 
composed  by  herself, — the  melodies  (fur  more 
than  one  were  introduced  into  the  irregulai 
chaunt)  were  such  as  she  had  caught  or  min- 
gled from  Indian  minstrelsy,  and  the  whole 
owed  its  only  attraction  to  the  sweet  and  varied 
tones  of  her  voice.  The  first  measure  was  a 
low  recitative  which  might  be  thus  rendered  in 
English : — 

"  The  aun  sinkii  Iwhind  Uie  weiiern  hllli, 
neep  retl  lire  the  curtains  ofhli  couch. 
One  by  on*  Uie  itara  appear ; 
Many  tlvey  are  and  Itwlfous. 
The  pulu  moon  U  umong  them ! 
Thoy  walk  In  their  appointed  path, 
BlnginK  on  their  way,  ■  God  made  us  aft !' 

Machtletida  tutck  Jlliltmun»»attH, 
or 

Hallowed  be  thy  i 


Here  the  measure  changed,  and  sweeping  the 
strings  with  a  bolder  hand,  she  continued  her 
untutored  hymn,  blending  her  Ohristian  creed 
with  the  figures  and  expressions  of  the  people 
among  whom  she  dwelt. 

"  The  Great  Spirit  of  the  Lenape  ia  God. 
Ha  has  sent  his  word  to  gladden  the  heart  of  man. 
Hut  clouds  sUII  darlten  the  minds  of  the  anrtent  people. 
Tho  Great  Spirit  knows  that  they  an  blind  and  dea^ 
Yet  His  ear  Is  open  to  hear, 
His  hand  la  icouy  to  guide. 

(ut  tvpri) 
Hallowed  be  thy  name !" 

Again  the  measure  changed,  as  in  the  richest 
tones  of  her  melodious  voice  she  pursued  her 
theme. 


1^ 


i 


78 

"  Slon  and  the  eVorlnstlng  mountains  are  thy  footstool ! 
LlRhtnliigH  nre  about  thy  throne. 
Thunder  i»  thy  voice,  m 

And  the  evil  aplrlt  treinblea  before  thee ! 
The  eagle  cannot  »oar  to  thy  hubitntion; 
Hii  pve  cHnnot  look  on  thy  brightnew ; 
Yet  liosl  thou  Rive  life  to  the  insect,  ,  : 

And  breath  to  the  merry  wren !  -      ,,■  / 

Thou  lendest  the  wild  horse  to  the  pasture, 
And  the  thirsty  fawn  to  the  stream. 
Hallowed  be  thy  name." 

Here  the  measure  resumed  its  low  and  plain- 
tive melody  as  she  thus  concluded  her  song. 

"  Who  sings  the  praise  of  God  1 
It  Is  '  Prairie-bird,'  the  poor  child  of  the  wilderness. 
But  God  spurns  not  her  prayer; 
She  is  II  stray-leaf,  that  knows  not  the  tree 
Whence  the  rude  wind  hntli  blown  it ; 
Bui  God  planted  the  parent  stem. 
And  not  a  branch  or  leaf  thereof  U  hid  from  his  sight. 
The  young  whip  poor-will  Hies  to  its  mother's  nest, 
The  calf  bleats  to  the  bison-cow : 
No  mother's  voice  says  to  Oliiipa,  'Come  here!' 
'Vbe  wide  prairie  Is  her  home ! 
God  is  n  Father  to  Oiltipa ! 

Hallowed  be  thy  name  !" 

In  singing  the  last  few  words,  the  tones  of 
her  voice  were  "most  musical,  most  melan- 
choly," and  though  no  human  eye  marked  the 
teardrop  that  stole  down  her  cheek,  it  would 
appear  that  her  song  had  excited  sympathy  in 
some  human  bosom,  for  a  deep  sigh  fell  upon 
her  ear ;  startled  at  the  sound,  Prairie-bird 
looked  round  her  tent,  but  no  one  could  be  seen  ; 
she  listened,  but  it  was  not  repeated,  and  the 
maiden  remained  unconscious  that  at  the  very 
first  touch  of  her  guitar  Reginald  had  crept  out 
of  the  adjoining  lodge,  and,  enveloped  in  a  buf- 
falo robe  un  the  grass  at  the  back  of  her  tent, 
had  heard  from  beginning  to  end  her  plaintive 
hymn,  and  had  paid  the  unconscious  tribute  of 
a  heavy  sigh  to  the  touching  pathos  of  its  closing 
strain. 


CHAPTER  IvXlII. 

Syaiptoms  of  a  Rupture  between  the  Delawares  and  Osa- 

ges.— Mah^ga  comes  forward  in  the  Character  of  a  Lover. 

-His  Cuurtship  receives  an  unexpected  interruption. 

Paul  Muller,  having  left  the  lodge  of  Prairie- 
bird,  fulfilled  his  intention  of  entering  that  of 
Tamenund:  h«  found  the  venerable  chieftain 
seated  upon  a  bufifalo  robe;  his  back  leaned 
against  a  balii  of  cloth,  a  highly  ornamented 
pipe-stem  at  his  lips,  while  from  its  other  extrem- 
ity, a  thin  column  uf  smoke  rising  in  wavy  folds, 
found  its  way  out  of  the  accidental  rents  and 
crevices  in  the  skins  which  covered  the  lodge. 
War-Eagle  was  listening  in  an  attitude  of  re- 
spectful attention  to  the  words  which  fell  from 
his  father;  but  the  subject  of  conversation  was 
evidently  of  some  importance,  as  the  women  and 
the  youths  were  whispering  together  at  a  dis- 
tance from  the  two  principal  persons.  The  en- 
trance of  the  missionary  was  not  unnoticed,  for 
Tamenund  made  him  a  signal  'o  draw  near  and 
sit  down ;  several  times  the  pipe  was  passed 
round  in  silence,  when  the  old  chief,  addressing 
his  guest  in  the  Delaware  tongue,  said,  "  The 
B'.a:k  Father  i  nows  that  there  are  dark  clouds 
in  the  sky  I" 

"  He  does,"  replied  the  missionary.  A  glance 
of  intelligence  passed  between  War-Eagle  and 
Ta'tienund,  as  the  latter  proceeded. 

"  What  says  the  Black-Father  1  Is  the  storm 
to  break,  or  will  the  sun  shine  agrin  1" 

"  The  Great  Spirit  only  knows,"  replied  the 


THE   PRAIRIEBIRD. 


missionary ;  "  if  the  sun  shines,  we  will  be  thank- 
ful, if  the  storm  falls,  we  will  wrap  round  us  the 
cloak  of  patience." 

A  fierce  gleam  shot  from  the  jroung  chief's 
eye,  but  he  spoke  not  a  word  until  Tamenund 
addressed  him  thus :  ■'  What  says  War-Eagle 
let  him  speak." 

"  The  snows  of  many  winters  arc  on  my  fa- 
ther's forehead;  the  Black-Father  has  learned 
wisdom  from  the  Great  Spirit;  it  is  more  fitting 
for  War-Eagle  to  listen  than  to  speak,"  replied 
the  young  man,  curbing  the  angry  thoughts  that 
glowed  in  his  breast. 

"Nay,  my  son,"  said  the  missionary,  "leC 
War-Eagle  speak,  and  his  saying  be  afterwards 
weighed  by  the  aged  heads." 

War-Easjle  then  proceeded  to  explain  how 
Wingenund,  in  returning  fioni  the  luikey-pen, 
had  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  distant  figure,  whom 
he  knew  at  a  glance  to  belong  to  anotlier  tribe.. 
Hastily  concealing  himself  among  t  bushes,, 
he  waited  till  the  strange  Indian  passeii,  and  then, 
resolving  to  watch  him,  crept  stealthily  on  his 

trail.  ,1        .      L 

Having  made  his  way  to  a  hollow  in  the 
thickest  part  of  the  forest,  he  sat  down  on  the 
slump  of  an  alder-tree,  where  he  made  and  twice 
repeated  a  low  signal  whistle,  vhich  was  sooa 
answered  by  another  Indian,  who  approached  in 
an  opposite  direction,  and  in  whom,  to  his  great' 
surprise,  Wingenund  recoa;nised  Mah£ga.  He 
was  not  near  enough  to  overhear  their  conver- 
sation, neither  was  he  aware  whether  they  spoJre 
in  the  Delaware  tongue,  but  after  conversing  in 
a  low  tone  for  some  minutes,  they  separated,  and 
Wingenund  again  put  himself  on  the  trail  of  the 
stranger;  the  latter  frequently  stopped  in  his 
course,  looked  tx>und  and  listened,  but  the  youth 
was  too  practised  and  sagacious  to  be  baffled  by 
these  precautions,  and  finally  succeeded  in  track- 
ing the  object  of  his  pursuit  to  an  encampment 
containing  ten  or  a  dozen  armed  Indians,  whom 
he  knew  at  once  to  form  a  war-party,  but  could 
not  decide  to  what  tribe  they  belonged ;  he  sue- 
ceeded,  however,  in  securing  a  mocassin  which 
one  of  them  had  dropped,  and  returned  unper- 
ceived  to  the  Delaware  village.  ' 

Such  was  the  outline  of  the  occurrences  now 
rapidly  sketched  by  War-Eagle ;  and  in  conclu- 
ding his  narrative,  he  held  up  the  mocassini 
above-mentioned,  and  presented  it  to  the  aged 
chief.    The  latter  examined  it  for  a  moment  ia  ^ 
silence,  and  restoring  it  to  the  warrior,  pro-.- 
nounced,  in  a  low  guttural  tone,  the  word  "Dahr- 
cotah." 
"  Yes,"  said  the  War- Eagle,  in  a  deep  whts- 

Cer,  indicative  of  the  indignant  passion  that 
oiled  within;  "Yes,  the  Dahcotah  is  in  the 
woods ;  he  prowls  like  a  prairie-wolf,  The 
Great  Spirit  has  made  him  a  dog,  and  if  he  sets 
his  foot  on  the  hunting-ground  of  the  Lejiap6,  let 
not  his  wife  complain  if  she  looks  along  his  path 
in  vain,  and  strikes  her  breast, saying,  'The  wife 
of  the  Dahcotah  is  a  widow!'  but  (he  Eyil  Spirit 
has  crept  into  the  heart  of  the  Wa«.ha«hee,  a 
snake  is  in  the  council-chamber  of  the  Lennp*, 
and  lies  are  on  the  tongue  of  Mahiga!  '  Is:  it 
cnouc^h,  or  must  War-Eagle  sneak  more  1" 

"  The  words  of  my  son  are  hard,"  replied  Tn-  - 
menund,  sha-ring  ;.!«  lie.id  sorrowfully;  "the  ■ 
Dahcotah  are  dogs,  they  are  on  a  deer-liunt; 
their  heart  is  not  big  enough  to  make  them  dig 
up  ihe  hatchet  to  fight  with  tiie  LenapC;.  Tame- 
nund cannot  believe  that  the  tongue  of  Mah^ga 
is  .so  forkeit,  -jr  his  heart  so  black,  for  two  suns 


have  not  passed  sii 
lodge,  anil  spoke  o 
Prairie  He  said 
him,  that  her  forni 
asked  Tamenund  t 

At  these  words 
vouthful  warrior  I 
bands  of  Indian  sel 
audibly  together, 
through  every  nerv 
the  keen  eye  of  tli 
countenance,  he  sul 
tempest,  and  asked 
ness  of  which  wa 
father  1" 

Tamenund  replii 
medicine  in  the  tril 
Great  Spirit,  and  tl 
be  in  the  lodge  of 
away  without  speai 
riously;  "but  hise 

"  My  father  said 
oils  young  man  ; 
among  his  dog-broi 
Eagle  will  smoke  n 

After  a  brief  pau 

"  My  son  has  to! 
speak  on." 

"  Nay,"  returned 
father  consult  the  ri 
who  have  seen  ma 
whisper  to  his  br: 
men  in  council  hiv 

With  this  ambif 
buffalo  robe  over  hi 

The  missionary  : 
ing,  yet  knew  not 
gained  extraordinai 
wares  by  never  ii 
unless  when  he  felt 
justify  the  advice  ' 
present  occasion  it 
friends  had  sulfici 
their  Osage  allies 
therefore,  to  wait 
those  attempts  at  i 
his  character  and  < 
this  determination, 
aged  chief  on  indi 
afterwards  retired  t 

During  the  prea 
had  been  seated  at 
lention  apparently* 
Ills  mocassins,  but 
his  watchful  ear,  at 
delight  that  there  ' 
with  the  Sioux,  tow 
we  have  before  obsi 
tred,  he  could  not 
ness,  the  dangerous 

e;irly  might  be  plai 
lelawares  and  Os 
cither  party  might 
th';  Pawnees,  or  sor 
ing  tribe;  he  resol 
10  content  himself  i 
on  his  guard,  resen 
lie  should  have  bee 
lions  of  his  Delaw 
(ieavour  he  did  not ; 
Ihe  experienced  wot 
incss  to  them  in  n 
and  skill  were  no 
than  was  his  morta 
Nothing  occurrei 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


Tjr 


have  not  passed  since  he  sat  and  .smoked  in  this 
lodge,  and  spoke  of  Olitipa,  the  daughter  of  the 
Prairie  He  said  that  her  voice  was  music  to 
him,  that  her  form  was  in  his  dreams,  and  he 
asked  Tamenund  to  give  her  to  him  as  a  wiie." 

At  these  words  the  suppressed  rage  of  the 
youthful  warrior  had  well  nigh  burst  the  iron 
bands  of  Indian  self-control ;  he  ground  his  teeth 
audibly  together,  his  dilated  form  trembled 
through  every  ner/e  and  muscle,  but  observing 
the  keen  eye  of  the  missionary  fixed  upon  his 
countenance,  he  subdued  in  a  moment  the  rising 
tempest,  and  asked  in  a  v'>ice,  the  forced  calm- 
ness of  which  was  fearful,  "What  said  my 
father  1" 

Tamenund  replied  that  the  mui  len  was  great 
medicine  in  the  tribe,  that  she  was  a  gift  of  the 
Great  Spirit,  and  that  her  dwelling  could  never 
be  in  the  lodge  of  an  Osage  chief.  "  He  went 
away  without  speaking,"  added  the  old  man  se- 
riously; "but  his  eye  spoke  bad  words  enough !" 

"  My  father  said  well," exclaimed  the  impetu- 
ous young  man  ;  "  let  Mahcga  seek  a  wife 
among  his  dog-brothers  the  Uahcotahs!  War- 
Eagle  will  smoke  no  more  in  his  lodge." 

After  a  brief  pause,  Tamenund  continued, 

"  My  son  has  told  half  his  thoughts,  let  him 
speak  on." 

"  Nay,"  returned  the  young  warrior,  "  let  my 
father  consult  the  medicine,  and  the  counsellors 
who  have  seen  many  winters:  War- Eagle  will 
whisper  to  his  braves,  and  when  the  ancient 
men  in  council  have  spoken,  he  vvill  be  ready." 

With  this  ambiguous  answer,  he  folded  his 
buffalo  robe  over  his  shoulder  and  left  the  lodge. 

The  missionary  saw  that  mjschief  was  brew- 
ing, yet  knew  not  how  to  prevent  it.  He  had 
gained  extraordinary  influence  among  the  Dela- 
wares  by  never  interfering  in  their  councils, 
unless  when  he  felt  assured  that  the  result  would 
justify  the  advice  which  he  offered,  but  on  the 
]iresent  occasion  it  was  evident  that  his  Indian 
friends  had  suiRcient  grounds  for  suspecting 
their  Osage  allies  of  treachery;  he  resolved, 
therefore,  to  wait  and  observe,  before  making 
those  attempts  at  reconciliation  which  became 
his  character  and  his  mission.  Influenced  by 
this  determination,  he  spoke  a  few  words  to  the 
aged  chief  on  indiflTerent  matters,  and  shortly 
afterwards  retired  to  his  own  lodge. 

During  the  pre-eding  conversation  Baptists 
had  been  sealed  at  a  little  distance,  his  whole  at- 
tention apparently  engaged  in  mending  a  rent  in 
his  mocassins,  but  scarcely  a  vord  had  escaped 
his  watchful  ear,  and  while  he  heard  with  secret 
delight  that  there  was  every  chance  of  a  fight 
with  the  Sioux,  towards  whom  he  cherished,  as 
we  have  beibre  observed,  ?n  unextinguished  ha- 
tred, he  could  not  view,  wi  hout  much  uneasi- 
ness, the  dangerous  position  in  which  Reginald's 
party  might  be  placed  by  a  rupture  between  the 
Delawares  and  Osages,"in  a  wild  region  where 
either  party  might  soon  obtain  the  ready  aid  of 
ih'3  Pawnees,  or  some  other  warlike  and  maraud- 
ing tribe;  he  resolved,  however,  for  the  present 
to  content  himself  with  putting  his  young  leader 
on  his  guard,  reserving  a  fuller  explanation  until 
lie  should  have  been  able  to  ascertain  the  inten- 
lions  of  his  Delaware  frieads:  in  this  last  en- 
deavour he  did  not  anticipate  much  difficulty,  for 
the  experienced  woodsman  had  proved  his  stead- 
iness to  them  in  many  a  fiay,  and  his  courage 
and  skill  were  no  less  proverbial  aniona:  ilicni 
than  was  his  mortal  enmity  to  the  DahoiMahs, 
Nothing  occurred  during  the  ensuing  night  to 


disturb  the  quiet  of  the  encampment,  if  that  may 
be  denominated  quiet  which  was  constantly  in- 
terrupted by  the  chattering  of  wakeful  squaws, 
the  barking  of  dogs,  the  occasional  chaunt  of  a 
warrior,  and  the  distant  howling  of  hungry- 
wolves;  our  hero's  dreams  were,  like  his  waking 
thoughts,  full  only  of  Prairie-bird;  and  when  he 
rose  at  daybreak  he  expressed  no  wish  to  ream 
or  hunt,  but  lingered  within  view  of  that  small 
circular  lodge,  which  contained  the  treasure 
that  he  valued  most  on  earth.  To  the  cautious 
warning  of  Bapliste  he  answered,  smiling,  "You 
confess  youi-se!f  that  you  only  suspect ;  you 
know  cur  friends  and  their  language,  their 
wiles,  and  their  stratagems.  I  trust  the  safety  of 
my  party  to  your  sagacity;  if  your  suspicions 
are  turned  to  certainty,  tell  me,  and  I  am  ready 
to  act." 

As  the  young  man  left  the  lodge  without  even 
taking  his  cutlass  or  his  rifle,  Baptiste  looking 
after  him,  shrugged  his  shoulders,  adding  iir  aa 
under  tone,  just  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by 
Monsieur  Perrot,  who  sat  at  his  side, 

"'Suspicion,'  'certainty,'  ' sagacity'— why 
surely  he  is  mad  !  he  talks  as  if  plots  and  plans 
were  measured  out  hyrnle  among  the  Red-skins, 
as  they  may  be  'mong  lords  and  princes  in  Eu- 
rope! this  comes  of  his  towering,  as  they  call  it, 
amongst  the  Dutch  and  other  outlandish  tribes. 
Surely  he's  lived  enough  in  the  territory  to  know 
that  with  these  Ingians,  and  special  near  a  Siour 
trail,  the  fiisi  suspicion  a  man  is  like  to  get  is 
an  arrow  in  his  ribs  or  a  tomahawk  jn  his  brain. 
Capole-bleu,  Maltre  Perrot,  what  do  you  thinlc 
of  your  master,  is  he  mad  1" 

"  Very  much  mad,"  said  the  good-humoured 
valet,  grinning,  while  he  continued  assiduously 
to  pound  some  cofl'ee-beans  which  he  was  pre- 
paring for  breakfast;  "very  much  mad,  Mon- 
sieur Baptiste;  he  very  mad  to  leave  Paris  to 
go  to  his  fox-huniin'  oncle  in  England ;  he  more 
mad  to  leave  dat  for  the  back-woods  by  de  Mus- 
kingum; but  he  dam  mad  to  leave  Mooshanne 
to  come  here  where  dere  is  nothing  but  naked 
savages  and  naked  prairies." 

"  Ah  !  MaStre  Perrot,"  replied  the  guide,  "my 
father  was  a  Canada  Frenchman,  and  althougn 
he  was,  mayhap,  never  further  east  than  Mon- 
treal, he  was  as  fond  of  talking  of  Paris  as  a 
bear  is  of  climbing  a  bee-tree!"* 

"  He  very  right.  Monsieur  Ba'tiste ;  de  world 
without  Paris  is  no  more  dan  a  woman  widout 
a  tongue ;  but  as  you  know  our  language,  I  will 
speak  it  to  you,  lor  pronouncing  Englifih  is  n» 
better  dan  breaking  stones  wid  your  teeth  !'• 
And  the  merry  valet  forthwith  -nflicted  upon 
his  gravel  companion  a  Parisian  tirade,  that 
very  soon  went  beyond  the  letter's  stock  of  Cana. 
diah  French. 

The  morning  dawned  with  unusual  splendour, 
the  sun  gradually  rose  over  the  wooded  hills  that 
bounded  the  eastern  horizon,  and  the  light  breeze 
shook  the  dewdrops  from  the  flowers  as  Praii  i*?- 
bird,  fresh  and  lovely  as  the  scene  around  her, 
tripped  lightly  over  the  grass  to  the  sequestered 
spot  which  we  have  before  mentioned  as  bcit'g 
her  favourite  re.sort;  there,  seated  at  the  root  of 


*  .\n  alluiion  to  tlie  fimiliipss  of  hpurs  for  honey  orcum 
more  tlmii  nncp  in  'hii  tiile,  iind  will  lie  inil  with  in  uime 
shiiiir  (ir  other  in  moBf  wnrics  which  trrat  o!'  that  animol'a 
hiiliita  mill  |iro|w.silirs  :  iliil  such  is  tlie  case  in  Europe  as 
well  as  in  North  Amiitiim.  miuv  lie  i,'BtlLi'H'il  from  the  f«rt 
Ihiil  in  thn  Kiiiisinn  toiiKiic,  ii  Hear  is  culled,  "  Mod-vcile," 
which  wiiril  is  Hum  formed;  med,  honey,  veile,  who  knows  j 
"  lie  who  Knows  lionry.'* 


M 


I 


i'  h 


80 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


the  aged  troe  where  Reginald  had  fi'st  seen  her, 
she  opened  the  volume  which  was  her  constant 
companion,  and  poured  forth  the  grateful  feel- 
ings of  her  heart,  in  the  words  of  the  inspired 
Prophet-King;  at  her  feet  flowed  tlie  brawling 
stream  which  fed  the  valley  below  the  encamp- 
ment; the  merry  birds  san^  their  matins  among 
the  leafy  branches  above  her  head,  and  around 
her  sprang  sweet-scented  flowers  and  blossoms 
of  a  thousand  varied  hues.  There  are  some 
spots,  and  some  brief  seasons  on  earth,  so  redo- 
lent of  freshness,  beauty,  and  repose,  as  almost 
to  revive  the  Paradise  lost  by  our  first  parents, 
but  soon,  too  soon,  the  effects  of  primeval  sin 
and  its  punishment  are  felt,  and  the  atmosphere 
of  heavenly  peace  is  tainted  by  the  raiasrca  of 
human  passion  I 

Praine-bird  had  enjoyed  for  some  time  her 
study  and  her  meditations  undisturbed,  when 
her  attention  wa.s  caught  by  the  sound  of  ap- 
proaching ibotsteps ;  the  conscious  blood  rushed 
to  her  cheek  as  she  expect:;d  to  see  the  same 
visitor  who  had  so  suddenly  presented  himself 
on  the  preceding  day,  when  w  her  surprise  and 
annoyance,  the  gigantic  figure  of  Mahega  stood 
before  her  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  streamlet 
by  which  she  was  sealed ;  although  simple,  un- 
suspecting, and  fearless  by  nature,  there  was 
something  in  the  countenance  and  bearing  of  this 
formidable  chief  that  had  always  inspired  her 
with  mingled  dislike  and  awe ;  remembering  on 
the  present  occasion  the  hint  lately  given  to  her  by 
the  Missionary,  she  returned  the  haughty  greet- 
ing of  the  Indian  by  a  gentle  inclination  of  her 
head,  and  then  summoned  composure  enough 
to  continue  her  reading,  as  if  desirous  to  avoid 
conversation ;  such,  however,  was  not  Mahega's 
intention,  who  softening,  as  far  as  he  was  able, 
the  rough  tones  of  his  voice,  addressed  to  her, 
in  the  Delaware  tongue,  a  string  of  the  finest 
Indian  compliments  on  her  beauty  and  attrac- 
tions. To  these  the  maiden  coldly  replied,  by 
telling  him  that  she  thanked  him  for  his  good 
u'ords,  but  that  as  she  was  studying  the  com- 
mands of  the  Great  Spirit,  she  wished  not  to  be 
disturbed. 

Mahega,  nothing  checked  by  this  reply,  con- 
tinued to  ply  her  with  protestations  and  prom- 
ises, and  concluded  by  telling  her  that  she  must 
be  his  wife;  that  he  was  a  warrior,  and  would 
fill  her  wigwam  with  spoils  and  trophies.  As 
he  proceeded,  his  countenance  b.^came  more 
excited,  and  the  tones  of  his  voic  i  had  already 
more  of  threat  than  of  entreaty.  Prairie-bird 
replied  with  forced  calmness,  tha'  shu  knew  he 
was  a  great  warrior,  but  that  sht  cruld  not  be 
his  wile;  their  paths  were  different;  his  led  to 
war,  and  spoils,  and  power  in  ruling  his  tribe; 
hers  to  tending  the  sick  and  fulfilling  the  com- 
mands of  the  Great  Spirit  given  in  the  "Medicine 
Book."  Irritated  by  the  firm  though  gentle  tone 
of  her  reply,  the  violent  nassion  of  the  chief 
broke  out  in  a  torrent  of  harsh  and  menacing 
^vords ;  he  called  her  a  foundling  and  a  slave ; 
adding,  that  in  spite  of  the  Delaware  squaws 
and  their  while  allies,  she  should  sleep  in  his 
lodge,  although  the  honour  was  greater  than  she 
deserved. 

Fired  with  indignation  at  this  brutal  menace, 
the  spirited  girl  rose  from  her  .seat,  and  looking 
him  full  in  the  face,  replied,  "Prairie-bird  is  a 
foundling;  if  Mahega  knows  his  parents,  he  dis- 
graces their  name;  she  would  rather  be  the 
slave  of  Tamenund  than  the  wif^,  of  Mahega." 

A  demoniac  grin  stole  over  the  features  of  the 


savage,  as  he  replied :  "  The  words  of  Olitipa 
are  bitter.  Mahega  laughs  at  her  anger;  she  is 
alone  and  unprotected;  will  she  walk  to  his 
lodge,  or  must  the  warrior  carry  her?" 

So  saying,  he  advanced  to  the  very  edge  of  the 
narrow  stream  !  The  maiden,  although  alarm- 
ed, retained  sufficient  pre.sence  of  mind  to  know 
that  to  save  herself  by  flight  was  impossible, 
but  the  courage  of  insulted  virtue  supported  her, 
and  she  answered  him  in  a  tone  thai  breathed 
more  of  indignation  than  of  fear. 

"  Olitipa  is  not  alone— is  not  unprotected ! 
The  Great  Spirit  is  her  protector,  beiore  whom 
the  stature  uf  Mahega  is  as  a  blade  of  grass, 
and  his  strength  like  that  of  an  infant.  See," 
she  continued,  drawing  from  her  girdle  a  small 
sharp-pointed  dagger,  "  Olitipa  is  not  unpro- 
tected ;  if  Mahega  moves  a  foot  to  cross  that 
stream  this  knife  shall  reach  her  heart;  ahd  the 
great  Mahega  will  go  to  the  hunting  fields  of  the 
dead,  a  coward,  and  a  woman-slayer." 

As  she  spoke  these  words  she  held  the  dagger 
pointed  to  her  bosom  now  heaving  with  high 
emotion ;  her  form  seemed  to  dilate,  and  her 
dark  eye  kindled  with  a  prouder  lustre.  The 
glow  on  her  cheek,  and  the  lofty  dignity  of  her 
attitude,  only  heightened  her  beauty  in  the  eyes 
of  i.ie  savage,  and  confirmed  him  in  carrying 
out  his  fell  purpose,  to  ensure  the  'success  of 
which  he  saw  that  stratagem,  not  force,  must  be 
employed  ;  assuming,  therefore,  a  sarcastic  tone 
of  voice,  he  replied, 

"  Olitipa  trusts  to  the  edge  of  her  knife ;  Ma- 
hega laughs  at  her."  Then  he  continued  in  a 
louder  key,  as  if  addressing  an  Indian  behind 
her,  "Let  W4nemi  seize  her  arm  and  hold  it." 

As  the  surprised  maiden  turned  her  head  in 
the  direction  where  she  expected  to  see  the  In- 
dian to  whom  Mahega  was  speaking,  that  crafty 
chief  cleared  the  brook  at  a  bound,  and  seizing 
her  waist,  while  a  smile  of  triumph  lit  up  his 
features,  said,  "  The  pretty  one  is  Mahega's 
prisoner;  there  is  no  one  here  but  himself;  a 
cunning  tale  tickled  the  ears  of  Olitipa." 

The  liapless  girl  saw  how  she  had  been  out- 
witted by  the  savage.  She  struggled  in  vain  to 
free  herself  from  his  grasp,  and  a  faint  scream 
of  despair  broke  from  her  lips. 

The  spring  of  a  famished  tiger  on  a  heifer  is 
not  more  fiercely  impetuous  than  was  the  bound 
with  which  Reginald  Brandon  rushed  from  the 
adjacent  thicket  upon  Mahega, — reckless  of  his 
opponent's  huge  bulk  and  strength,  forgetful 
that  he  was  himself  unarmed.  The  cry  of 
Prairie-bird  had  strung  with  tenfold  power  ev- 
ery sinew  in  his  athletic  frame;  seizing  with 
both  hands  the  throat  of  Mahega,  he  grasped  it 
with  such  deadly  force  that  the  Indian  was  com- 
pelled to  release  h\s  hold  of  the  maiden, — but  he 
still  retained  her  knife,  and  in  the  struggle  plun- 
ged it  into  the  arm  and  shoulder  of  Reginald, 
who  relaxed  not,  however,  his  iron  grasp,  but 
still  bore  his  opponent  backward,  until  the  foot 
of  the  latter  tripped  over  a  projecting  root,  and 
he  f'll  with  tremendous  force  upon  his  head, 
the  blood  gushing  in  torrents  from  his  nose  and 
mouth.  Regmald,  who  had  been  dragged  down 
in  his  fall,  seized  the  dagger,  and,  as  he  raised 
it  above  his  head,  felt  a  light  touch  upon  his 
arm,  and  turning  round  saw  Prairie-bira  kneel- 
ing at  his  side,  her  face  pale  as  monumenla 
marble,  and  the  sacred  volume  still  clasped  in 
her  hand. 

"  Kill  him  not,  Reginald,"  she  said,  in  a  low, 
impressive  voice;  "Vengeance  is  mine,  saiih 
the  Lord  I" 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


81 


Breathless,  and  flushed  with  the  late  severe 
struggle,  the  young  man  replied,  "  I  will  spare 
ihe  villain,  dear  Prairie-bird,  at  your  bidding;  he 
.s  stunned  and  senseless  now,  but  he  will  soon 
recover,  and  his  fury  and  thirst  lor  revenge  will 
Know  no  bounds;  he  shall  know,  however,  that 
1  have  spared  him."  So  saying  he  cut  off  the 
dyed  and  ornamented  scalp  lock  I'rom  the  top  of 
Mali6ga's  head,  and  laying  it  beside  the  prostrate 
chieftain,  arose,  and  retired  with  Prairie-bird 
from  the  spot. 

They  walked  together  some  distance  in  silence, 
for  her  heart  was  overcharged  with  contending 
emotions,  and  as  they  went  slie  unconsciously 
clung  to  his  arm  for  support ;  at  length  she  stop- 
ped, and  looking  up  in  his  face,  her  eyes  glisten- 
ing with  tears,  she  said, 

"  How  am  1  ever  to  thank  you  1  ray  first  debt 
of  gratitude  is  due  to  Hea.en;  but  you  have 
been  its  brave,  its  blessed  instrument  of  my  de- 
liverance from  worse  than  death !"  and  a  shudder 
passed  over  her  frame  as  the  rude  grasp  of  Ma- 
nega  recurred  to  her  remembrance. 

"Dear  Prairie-bird,"  he  replied;  "as  a  man  I 
would  have  done  as  much  lor  the  poorest  and 
most  indifferent  of  your  sex— how  then  am  I  re- 
paid a  thousand,  thousand  fold  by  having  been 
allowed  to  serve  a  being  so  precious!"  The 
deep  mellow  tone  in  which  he  spoke  these  words, 
and  the  look  by  which  they  were  accompanied, 
brought  the  truant  colour  again  to  the  cheek  of 
his  companion,  and  as  she  cast  her  full  dark  eyes 
downward,  they  rested  on  the  arm  that  support- 
ed her,  and  she  saw  that  his  sleeve  was  stained 
and  dropping  with  blood ! 

"Oh!  yon  are  wounded,  badly  hurt,  I  fear. 
Tell  me,  tell  me,  Reginald,"  she  continued,  with 
an  intensity  of  anxiety  that  her  expressive  coun- 
tenance betrayed,  "are  you  badly  hurti" 

"Indeed,  dear  Prairie-bird,  I  cannot  tell  you; 
I  felt  the  Indian  strike  me  twice  with  the  dagger 
before  he  fell ;  I  do  not  think  the  wounds  are  se- 
rious, for  you  see  I  can  walk  and  assist  your 
steps  too." 

While  he  thus  spoke  he  was,  however,  grow- 
ing faint  from  loss  of  blood,  and  the  wound  in  his 
.shoulder,  having  become  cold  and  stiff,  gave  him 
exquisite  pain.  Prairie-bird  was  not  deceived 
by  the  cheerfulness  of  his  manner;  she  saw  the 
paleness  that  was  gradually  stealing  over  his 
■countenance,  and  with  ready  presence  of  m'nd, 
insisted  on  his  sitting  down  on  the  trunk  of  a 
fallen  tree  beside  their  path.  The  suffering  con- 
dition of  Reginald  ledoubled  instead  of  paraly- 
zing her  energies ;  she  fdled  his  cap  with  fiesh 
water  from  the  brook,  urged  him  to  ta.ste  a  few 
diops,  and  sprinkled  more  over  his  face  ii  ,.. 
temples;  then  ripping  up  the  sleeve  of  his  hunt- 
ing shirt,  she  found  the  blood  still  welling  from 
two  severe  wounds  between  the  elbow  and 
shoulder  in  the  left  arm;  'hoi^e  she  bathed  and 
carefully  closed,  applying  lo  them  a  healincr 
salve  which  she  drew  from  the  smal'  bag  that 
she  wore  at  her  girdle,  aller  which  she  bandaged 
the  arm  firmly  with  her  kerchief,  then,  kneeling 
beside  him,  strove  to  read  in  his  face  the  suc- 
cess of  her  simple  surgery. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  minutes  the  dizzy  sen- 
sation of  faintness,  that  had  been  produced  by 
loss  of  blood,  passed  away,  and  the  delighted 
Prairiii-bird,  seeing  on  his  countenance  the 
beaming  smile  of  returning  consciousness  and 
strength,  murmured  to  herself,  "Oh!  God,  1 
thank  thee!"  then  hiding  her  face  in  her  hands, 
wept  with  mingled  emotion  and  gratitude.  Re- 
F 


ginald  heard  the  words,  he  marked  the  tear^,  and 
no  longer  able  to  suppress  the  feelings  with 
which  his  heart  overflowed,  he  drew  her  gently 
towards  him  with  his  yet  unwounded  arm,  and 
whispered  in  her  ear  the  outpourings  of  a  first, 
Ibnd,  passionate  love ! 

No  reply  came  from  her  lips,  her  tears  (tears  of 
intense  emotion)  flowed  yet  faster;  but  a  sensi- 
ble pre.ssure  on  the  part  of  the  little  hand  which 
lie  clasped  within  his  own,  gave  him  the  blest 
assurance  that  his  love  was  returned ;  and  again 
and  again  did  he  repeat  those  sacred  and  impas- 
sioned vows  by  which  the  hopes,  the  fears,  the 
fortunes,  the  anections,  the  very  existence  of  two 
immortal  beings,  are  inseparably  blended  togeth- 
er. Her  unresisting  hand  remained  clasped  in 
his,  and  her  head  leaned  upon  his  shoulder,  that 
she  might  conceal  the  blushes  that  suffused  her 
countenance ;  still  he  would  not  be  satisfied  with- 
out a  verbal  answer  to  his  thrice  urged  prayer 
that  he  might  call  her  his  own;  and  when  at 
length  she  raised  her  beaming  eyes  lo  his,  and 
audibly  whispered  "  For  ever,"  he  sealed  upon 
those  sweet  lips  the  contract  of  unchanged  affec- 
tion. 

Bright,  transitory  moments  of  bliss!  lightning 
flashes  that  illumine  the  dark' and  stormy  path 
of  life,  though  momentary  in  your  duration  how 
mighty  in  your  power,  how  lasting  in  your  ef- 
fects! Sometimes  imparting  a  rapturous  glow 
and  kindling  an  unceasing  heat  that  deatii  itself 
cannot  extinguish,  and  sometimes  under  a  star 
of  evil  destiny  searing  and  withering  the  heart 
rendered  desolate  by  your  scorching  flame! 

It  is  not  necessary  to  inform  the  gentle  reader 
how  long  the  U  e-a-Ule  on  th»r  fallen  tree  contin- 
ued ;  suffice  it  to  say  that  Prame-bir'?  forgot  her 
fright,  and  Reginald  his  wounci^;  and  when  they 
returned  to  the  village,  each  soufit  to  <njoy  in 
solitude  those  delicious  reveries  which  leserve 
certainly  the  second  place  iii  love't  talalogue  of 
happiness. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

£thoiSto.i  prepares  to  leave  Moushann?.— .'ifahiga  jg^eMi 
as  rn  Orator,  in  which  Character  he  succeeds  liotterttaan 
m  thr.'.  ;>f  a  Low  —A  Storm  succeeded  by  a  Calm 

W' !  ;;  the  (-»,ents  described  in  the  lasrt  chap- 
ters w-'re  in  progress,  itui  hours  sped  sm'>')thry 
onward  af  Mooshanne.  Lury  and  Ethe}»ton 
thought  themselves  justly  entitled  to  a  liberal 
co.npensation  for  the  'rials  of  th^ir  Jong  separa- 
tion, and  as  the  spr\  jjr  advanced,  morning  and 
'  ivening  generally  fou.»<i  them  strolling  together, 
in  the  enjoyment  of  iis  opening  beauties.  Some- 
times Aunt  Mary  encounte'H  them  during  the 
busy  round  of  her  visits  to  th«  poultry,  the  pig- 
gery, or  to  the  cottage  of  some  neighbour,  whith- 
er sorrow  or  sickness  called  her.  The  mate  fre- 
quently came  over  from  Marietta  to  see  his  rap- 
tain,  and  to  inquire  whether  there  was  no  early 
prospect  of  another  voyage,  for  he  already  began 
to  find  that  Time  travelled  slowly  ashore ;  and 
although  he  consoled  himself,  how  and  then, 
with  a  pipe  and  soc'r.l  glass  in  David  Muir's 
back  parlour,  he  longed  to  be  afloat  again,  and 
told  the  worthy  merchant,  that  he  wo'ild  rather 
have  made  the  fresh-water  trip  m  the  canoe, 
than  be  laid  up  in  dock,  while  he  felt  his  old  hull 
still  stout  and  seaworthy.  His  son  Henry  con- 
tinued to  advance  in  the  good  graces  of  Jessie 
Muir,  but  unfortunately  for  the  youth  his  father 


w. 


83 


THP    PRAIRIE -BIRD. 


had  discovered  his  altachment,  and  lost  no  op- 
porluniiy  of  banie  ing  him  in  ilie  presence  o( 
the  young  lady,  accompanying  his  jokes  with 
suntlry  grins,  and  severe  pokes  in  the  ribs,  which 
caused  sometimes  a  disagreeable  alternation  of 
vexation  and  confusion ;  nevertheless  Uaviil 
Muir  remained  habitually  blind  lo  the  state  of 
his  daughter's  afTcctions,  and  Dame  Christie 
was  a  great  deal  too  much  occupied  with  the 
cares  of  domestic  government  (including  the  oc- 
casional lectures  and  reproofs  administered  to 
David),  to  admit  of  her  troubling  her  head  with, 
what  sne  would  .  ive  termed,  their  childish  fan- 
cies. 

.Such  was  the  general  state  of  affairs  on  the 
banks  of  the  Muskingum,  when  Colonel  Bran- 
don received  letters  from  St.  Louis,  informing 
him  that,  since  the  departure  ot  his  son,  various 
disputes  had  arisen  Ijetween  the  agents  of  the 
different  companies,  and  that  unless  a  speedy 
and  amicable  arrangement  could  be  effected,  a 
heavy  loss  must  necessiiiily  fall  upon  ihe  fur 
proprietors  and  others  interested  in  the  specula- 
tion. By  the  same  post,  a  letter,  bearing  a  lor- 
eign  postmark,  was  placed  in  the  hands  of  Eth- 
elston,  during  the  perusal  of  which,  an  expression 
of  sadness  spread  itself  over  his  countenance, 
and  he  fell  abstractedly  into  a  reverie,  the  sub- 
ject of  which  was  evidently  of  a  painful  nature. 
Such  indication'  were  not  likely  to  escape  the 
anxious  and  observant  eye  of  love,  iind  Lucy, 
laying  her  hand  lightly  on  his  arm,  said,  in  a 
tone  half  joking,  half  serious,  '•  Am  1  not  entitled 
to  know  all  your  secrets  now,  Edward  1" 

"  I  think  not,"  he  replied  in  the  sanv.;  tone, 
"and  I  am  rather  disposed  to  refuse  gratlt'ying 
your  curiosity,  until  you  consent  to  acquiring 
such  a  title  as  shall  be  indisputable."  Lucy 
coloured,  hut  as  she  still  held  out  her  hand  and 
threatened  him  with  her  displeasure  if  he  contin- 
ued disobedient,  he  gave  her  the  letter,  saying, 
"I  suppose  I  must  submit;  the  contents  are  sad, 
but  there  is  no  leason  why  I  should  wiihliold 
them  from  yourself,  or  from  your  father."  VViih 
these  words  he  left  the  room ;  after  a  short  pause, 
Lucy,  at  the,  Colonel's  request,  read  him  the  let- 
ter, which  proved  to  be  from  young  Lieutenant 
L'Estrange,  and  which,  bting  translated,  ran  as 
follows: — 

"  Mv  HONOURED  FRIEND, 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  of  the  grief  that  I  expe-. 
rienced  on  revisiting  my  changed  and  desolate 
home.  My  father  has  iold  me  all  that  passed 
during  your  stay  in  the  island.  He  looks  up  n 
those  days  not  in  anger,  but  in  sorrow ;  he  is 
sensible  that  for  a  lime  he  did  you  injustice,  and 
fears  that,  in  the  first  bitterness  of  his  grief,  he 
may  have  omitted  to  make  you  full  repara'ion. 
These  feelings  he  entreats  rae  to  convey  to  y  lu, 
and  desires  me  'o  add,  that,  from  the  first  day  of 
your  arrival  to  that  of  your  final  departure,  your 
conduct  was  tike  yourself— noble,  upright,  and 
freaerou.'^.  The  misfortune  that  we  still  bewail, 
we  bow  to,  M  being  the  in.action  of  a  Providence 
wjios*^  wayj  are  inscrutable.  Accept  the  renewed 
issurance  ol  the  highest  regard  and  esteem  of 
/our  friend, 

\  t  "Eugene  L'Estrange." 

A?  Lucy  read  this  letter,  her  eyes  filled  with 
tear«,  though,  perhaps,  she  could  scarcely  have 
explained  whethe-*  she  wept  over  the  afflictions 
that  had  befflllen  the  L'Estrange  family,  or  the 
gentrrous  te.stimony  which  it  bore  to  her  lover's 
conduct.    The  Oolonel,  too,  was  much  affected, 


and  gladly  acquiesced  in  his  daughter's  propo- 
sal, tliat  they  should,  for  t'  e  future,  abstaii^  from 
renewing  a  subject  w!  .ch  must  cause  such 
painful  recollections  to       .elston. 

Eie  many  hours  had  elapsed,  the  latter  was 
.'4uiniii')iied  to  attend  the  Colonel,  who  inlbrmed 
him  th:it  the  intelligence  lately  received  from  St. 
Louis  was  of  a  nature  so  important  to  his  affairs, 
that  it  required  immediate  attention.  "  There 
is  no  one,"  he  continued,  "to  whom  I  can  well 
entrust  this  ir.v-estigation  except  yourself,  for 
none  has  deserved  or  received  so  much  of  my 
confidence."  Tiiere  was  an  unusual  embarrass- 
ment and  hesitation  observable  in  Etiielston's 
countenance  on  hearing  these  words,  which  did 
not  escape  his  guardian's  quick  eye,  and  the  lat- 
ter added,  "  1  see,  my  dear  fellow,  that  you  are 
not  disposed  to  leave  Mooshanne  again  so  soon ; 
you  are  thinking  about  certain  promises  and  a 
certain  young  lady— i^  it  not  so,  Edward  1" 

"  It  is  so,  indeed,  my  best  and  kindest  of 
friends,'  said  Eihelston.  "Can  you  think  or 
wisli  that  it  should  be  otherwise  1" 

"  Nay,"  said  Colonel  Brandon,  smiling,  "  I 
will  not  deny  that  you  are  entitled  to  entertain 
such  thoughts,  but  believe  me,  when  1  assure 
you  seriously  ihai  this  expedition  is  essential  to 
your  own  interests  and  lo  mine.  A  great  por- 
tion ol  the  property  left  to  you  under  my  care  by 
your  father  is  invested  in  iliese  fur  companies; 
and  ere  you  enter  on  the  responsibilities  of  a 
married  life,  it  is  necessary  that  you  put  your 
affairs  in  such  a  posture,  as  to  ensure  some  fu- 
ture provision  for  the  lady  of  whom  you  are 
thinking.  These  arrangements  will  not  detain 
yoii  at  St.  Louis  for  more  than  six  weeks  or  two 
months;  by  that  time  Reginald  "'ill  have  re- 
turned from  his  Indian  excursion  ;  you  will  come 
home  together,  and  I  will  then  listen  patiently  to 
whatever  you  may  think  fit  to  say  regarding  the 
voung  lady  in  question.  Shall  it  be  so,  Ed- 
wiird'i" 

"  How  can  I  be  grateful  enough  I"  replied  Eth- 
elston,  taking  the  Colonel's  hand.  "Uive  me 
only  leave  lo  explain  to  Lucy  the  cause  and 
probable  duration  of  my  absence,  then  I  am 
ready  to  leceive  your  instructions  and  to  set 
about  it  immediately." 

We  will  not  inquire  too  minutely  how  Lucy 
received  this  eiplanation  from  her  lover's  lip, 
nor  what  means  he  took  to  reconcile  her  to  the 
proposed  arrangement;  it  is  sufficient  lo  state, 
that  she  finally  acquiesced  with  her  habitual  gen- 
tleness, and  that,  in  a  few  days  after  the  above 
conversation,  Ethelstor  had  completed  his  prep- 
arations tor  his  journey  to  St.  Ixjuis. 

We  will  again  take  leave  of  him  and  of  Moo- 
shanne for  a  season,  and  return  to  Mahegi,  who-n 
we  left  bleeding  and  sea.seless,  at  no  great  dis- 
tance froin  the  Osage  and  Delaware  encamp- 
ment. Indeed,  we  should,  ere  this,  have  accused 
ourseUes  of  inhumanity  towards  that  chief,  for 
leaving  him  so  long  in  such  sorry  plight,  had  he 
not  merited  severe  punishment  for  his  rough  and 
brutal  beliaviiuir  to  "Prairie-bird." 

"Vv  lien  Mahcga  recovered  his  senses,  he  was 
still  so  mui:h  confused  from  Ihe  stunning  eflccts 
of  the  severe  blow  th«t  he  had  received  on  the 
head,  as  well  as  from  loss  of  blood,  that  he  could 
not  recall  to  mind  the  events  iminedlatelv  pre- 
ceding his  ^wooa;  nor  did  they  present  them- 
selves distini.n'y  lo  his  memory,  until  his  eye 
rested  upon  his' stained  scalp  lock,  and  beside  it 
the  knite  that  Reginald  Brandon  had  driven 
firmly  into  the   turf      Then    he   remembered 


m   «• 


THE    PRAIRIE- BIRD. 


81 


flearly  enough  the  struggle,  his  fall,  and  the 
maiden's  escape ;  and  the  rage  engendered  by 
this  remembrance  was  rendered  yet  more  vio- 
lent, when  he  reflected  on  the  insult  that  his  scalp 
had  su<itained  from  an  enemy  who  had  scorned 
tc  take  Itls  life. 

Fierce  as  were  the  passions  that  boiled  within 
the  breast  of  the  Osage,  his  self-command  waa 
such  that  he  was  able  to  control  all  outward 
demonstration  of  them ;  and  rising  slowly,  he 
first  effaced  in  the  stream  all  the  sangumary 
marks  of  the  late  contest,  and  then  took  his  way 
towards  the  camp,  revolving  in  his  mind  various 
projects  for  securing  the  two  pri^fipal  objects 
that  he  was  determined  to  accomplish- -the  pos- 
session  of  Prairie-bird  and  the  death  of  Regiiiald 
Brandon  I 

Although  a  wild,  uninstructed  savage,  Ma- 
hfcga  vvi.s  gifted  wiih  talents  of  no  common  or- 
der. Bold  and  inflexible  in  carrying  out  his 
purposes,  he  had  cunning  sufficient  to  make  im- 
importani  concessions  to  the  opinions  of  other 
chiefs  and  braves  in  council.  Unlike  the  great 
majority  of  his  tribe  and  race,  he  was  well  aware 
ot  the  power  and  strength  resulting  from  union, 
and  although  all  his  ambition  ultimately  cen- 
tred in  himself,  he  had  the  art  of  persuading 
his  couniry.r.Qn  that  he  sought  (liily  their  inter- 
ests and  welfare;  thus,  while  many  hated  and 
more  feared  Mahega,  he  was  the  most  inllacn- 
tial  chief  in  the  tribe,  on  account  of  his  daring 
courage,  his  success  in  war,  and  the  reckless 
liberality  with  \\hich  he  distributed  among  others 
his  -share  of  booty  or  of  spoil.  When  the  Dela- 
wai«  band  had  migrated  to  the  banks  of  the 
Osage  river,  Mal'.ega's  first  impulse  had  been  to 
attack  and  destroy  them;  but  finding  tliat  the 
new  comers  were  better  supplied  with  arms  and 
Rmmunition,  the  issue  of  a  conflict  seemed  doubt- 
(ul.  Moreover,  J's  they  were  visited  by  many 
traders,  he  calculated  that,  by  keeping  on  friendly 
terms  with  them,  he  should  acqiiire  for  his  tribe 
and  lor  himself  many  advantages  greater  than 
they  had  before  enioyed. 

Acting  upon  these  motives  he  had  not  only  en- 
couraged peace  with  the.  Delawares,  but  had  ef- 
fected through  h's  own  influence  the  league  that 
had  for  some  time  united  the  two  bands  in  one 
encampment;  nor  had  he  been  mistaken  in  his 
expectations,  for  since  their  union  with  the  band 
of  Delawares,  the  Osages  hwd  been  enabled  to 
beat  off  the  Pawnees  and  other  roving  tribes,  from 
Whose  inroads  upon  lh?ir  hunting  ground  they 
had  before  been  esposed  to  frequent  and  severe 
disasters ;  the  objects  of  which  he  had  c«menipla- 
led,  had  thusboen  for  the  most  part  a«omplisned. 
The  tribe  wi»s  plentifully  supplied  with  arms 
and  ammunition  by  the  traders;  his  own  influ- 
ence among  them  was  highet  ihan  ever ;  but 
he  could  Hot  brook  a  rival  to  liis  fame  as  a  war- 
rior in  War-Eagle,  nor  beat  lo  be  checked  and 
thwarted  in  his  ambitious  schemes,  by  the  mild 
authofiiy  of  Tamenund. 

The  mind  of  Mahega  b'jing  thus  prepared  for 
seizing  the  earliest  opiiortunity  of  coming  to  r. 
-uptur'"  with  the  Deliiwares,  it  may  well  be  ima- 
gined how  his  most  violent  and  rancorous  pa;?- 
sions  were  excited  by  the  scornful  rejection  of 
his  suit  en  the  part  of  Prairie-bird,  and  ihe  dis- 
grace he  iiad  incurred  in  his  rencounter  with  her 
■white  protector.  He  resolved  no  longer  to  delay 
the  meditated  blow;  he  had  already  made  a  se- 
cret league  w>th  the  warlike  and  powerful  Dali- 
cotahs;  and  the  occasion  seemed  most  favotirn- 
ble  for  wreaking  his  vengeance  on  the  relatives 


of  Prairie-bird,  ar^  the  white  men  now  resident 
in  the  Delaware  samp. 

Having  once  formed  his  determination,  he  set 
about  carrying  it  into  efl'ect  with  the  sagacitj 
and  profound  dissimulation  which  liad  alread/ 
obtained  for  him  such  an  ascendancy  in  the 
Osage  council.  No  sooner  had  he  reached  bis 
iodge,  than  he  dressed  himself  in  his  Medicine 
robe,*  adorned  his  face  with  corresponding 
streaks  of  paint,  and  concealing  the  loss  of  his 
scalplock  by  a  Spanish  kerchief  tyhich  he  fold- 
ed round  his  head,  somewhat  alter  the  fashion  of 
a  turban,  he  sallied  tbrth  to  visit  the  ciiiefs  and 
braves,  on  whose  co-operation  he  felt  that  suc- 
cess must  mainl'/  depend. 

Some  of  tiieS',  were  already  prepared  to  adopt 
his  views,  oy  iieir  previous  participation  in  the 
league  with  i!ie  Dahcotahs;  others  he  imi  and 
moulded  to  his  purpose  by  arguments,  and  in- 
ducements suited  to  their  character  or  circum- 
stunces;  and  ere  he  returneii  to  his  lodge,  he  ielt 
confident  that  his  proposed  plans  wouiti  be  sup- 
ported by  the  most  influential  warriors  in  the 
tribe,  and  that  he  should  easily  bear  down  the 
opposition  of  the  more  cautious  and  scrupulous, 
who  might  be  disposed  to  keep  faith  with  their 
Delaware  allies. 

In  the  meanwhile  War-Eagle  was  not  idle, 
he  visited  the  principal  braves  and  warriors  of 
his  tribe,  and  found  them  unanimous  in  their  res- 
olution to  break  oft' all  communication  with  the 
Osages,  as  .soon  as  the  latter  should  commit  any 
overt  act  that  should  justify  thi-m  in  dissolving 
tlie  league  into  which  they  had  entered.  He 
also  resolved  to  watch  closely  the  movements  of 
Mahega,  of  whose  malice  and  influence  he  was 
fully  aware;  with  this  view  he  selected  an  intel- 
ligent Delaware  boy,  who  knew  the  Ossige  lan- 
guage, and  desired  him  to  hover  about  the  lent  of 
tlie  chief,  and  to  bring  a  report  of  all  that  he 
should  see  or  hear. 

Towards  Ihe  close  of  day,  Mahega  sent  run- 
ners about  his  village,  after  the  usual  Indiaa 
fashion,  to  summon  the  warriors  and  braves, 
most  of  whom  were  already  prepared  for  the 
harangue  which  he  was  ahont  to  address  to  them ; 
as  soon  as  a  sufficient  number  were  collected, 
the  wily  chief  came  forth  from  his  lodge,  in  the 
dre&s  before  described,  and  began  by  thanking 
them  tor  so  readily  obeying  his  call. 

"Whv  did  lyiah^-ga  call  together  the  war- 
riors 1"  he  continued ;  "  was  it  to  tell  them  that  a 
broad  bison-trail  is  near  the  camp  1  The  Med- 
icin-.-men  Lave  not  yet  smoked  the  hunting  pipe 
to  f.ie  Wahcondah.— Was  it  to  tell  them  ot  the 
sca'ps  taken  by  their  fathers'!  The  young  men 
hav '  not  been  called  to  the  war-dance,  their  ears 
hav.;  not  heard  the  Drum.+~Wa8  it  to  ticjste 
their  ears  with  words  like  dried  grass'?  MahcV- 
ga^s  tongue  is  not  spread  with  honey;  he  ha?, 
called  the  Washashe  to  open  their  ears  (ind  eyes, 
to  tell  them  that  snakes  have  crept  under  their 


*  Tho  Biiffulo  robes  wwm  by  th«  Oaages,  as  woll  as  by 
sonic  iithpr  Missouii  trihrt,  irfi  variously  ornameiitfil  luij 
TMiintcd  with  devices.  Some  of  these  refiT  to  war.  sume  to 
iimrriagp,  som«  to  medicine  or  niystf t>  ;  these  last  aregsn- 
crally  wi;rn  at  couneils,  on  which oci.isinns  a ehief  wlio  li« 
some  important  aubject  to  propose,  fre(|UCBtly  adds  to  tlie 
paint  on  his  face,  some  slrealis  corresponding  to  the  deviccu 
on  his  lliifTalo  rolic. 

t  In  the  pcrfm-niancp  of  the  war-dance  ajrion^tho  Imimn9 
of  tho  Missouri,  tlio  tread  of  tlio  dancers  isjuidsl  tiy  n  utr> 
\  notonous  channt,  S'lng  l)y  'ome  of  the  Mmlicme-moi.,  r.ni! 
!  iiccomiiauied  liy  the  I'ca'  of  a  small  drnm  of  the  rudest  rnn- 
i  struction.  and  most  barren  dismal  tone.  It  is  genemlly 
'  nothing  more  than  a  dried  sitin,  stretched  upon  a  wooden 
'  frame  hollowed  out  with  a  knife  by  the  squaws. 


f? 


* 


84 


THE  PRAIRIE-lIKD. 


lodges,  that  the  dogs  in  the  village  have  become 
wolves!" 

As  he  paused,  the  auditors  looked  each  at  the 
other;  those  who  were  not  yet  iiisirucied  iu  the 
speaker's  project  being  at  a  loss  to  catch  the 
meaning  of  hiti  words,  hiecing  that  he  bad  ar- 
rested their  attention,  he  proceeded,  "  When  Ma- 
hoga  was  young,  when  our  lathers  were  war- 
riors, who  was  so  strong  as  the  Washasbel 
Our  hunters  killed  the  deer  and  the  bison  liom 
the  Neska  to  the  Topeo-ka.*  'i'he  Konsas  were 
our  brothers,  and  we  were  afraid  of  none.  But 
the  Mahe-hunguht  came  near,  their  tongues 
were  smooth,  their  hands  'Vure  full,  and  the 
Washashe  listened  to  their  talk;— is  it  not  sol" 

A  deep  murmur  testihed  the  attention  of  his 
auditors;  but  Mahega  knev/  that  he  was  ventur- 
ing on  dangerous  ground,  and  his  present  object 
was  rather  to  incite  them  to  vengeance  against 
ihe  band  of  Delawares  and  their  guests,  than 
against  the  white  men  in  general.  He  resumed 
bis  harangue  in  a  milder  tone. 

"  The  Long-knives  smoked  the  pipe  of  peace 
with  us,  we  gave  them  meat,  and  skins,  and  they 
gave  us  paint,  and  blankets,  and  fire-weapons 
with  Meuicine-powder  and  lead, — all  that  was 
well;  but  who  came  with  the  Long-knives,-  the 
Lenap^ !"  He  paused  a  moment,  then  looking 
fiercely  round,  be  continued  in  a  louder  strain; 
"  and  who  are  these  Lenap^  1  They  wei't: 
beggars  when  they  came  to  us!  Their  skin  is 
red,  but  ihejr  hearts  are  pale.  Do  we  not 
know  the  tale  of  their  fathers  1  Were  they  not 
slaves  to  the  warriors  of  other  nations'!;  Were 
they  not  women  1  Did  they  not  lea  o  the  war- 
path to  plant  maize,  and  drink  the  fire-water  of 
the  Long-kiiives?  They  gave  up  their  hunting 
ground;  ihey  left  the  bones  of  tlicir fathers;  thev 
crossed  the  Ne-o-hunge,s  and  asked  for  the  friend- 
ship of  the  Washashe.  We  liglited  the  pipe  for 
them  ;  we  received  them  like  brothers,  and  open- 
ed 10  them  our  hunting  ground ;  but  their  hearts 
are  bad  to  us,  Washashes,  Mahega  tells  yuu  that 
the  Leuape  are  snakes !" 

Another  deep  guttural  .sound,  indicative  of  in- 
creased excitement,  gratified  the  speaker's  ear, 
and  he  continued  in  a  strain  yet  bolder.  "Is 
Mahega  not  a  chiefl  Has  he  not  struck  the 
bodies  of  his  enemies  ]  Arc  there  no  scalps  on 
his  war-shirt  ■?  He  was  good  to  these  Lcnap6, 
he  treated  their  warriors  like  brothers,  he  otter- 
ed to  make  Olit' ja  his  wife,  (hey  gave  him  bitter 
■words  and  threw  dirt  upon  his  lodge.  Sliall  the 
Washashe  chief  be  called  i  Dof!  V  he  exclaimed 
in  a  voice  of  thunder,  "  Shall  ht  .-'it  on  the  ground 
•while  a  Lenapc  spits  in  his  f  .ce  I" 

A  shout  of  anger  and  furv  burst  from  '.he  au- 
dience, as  waving  his  hand  impatiently  for  si- 
lence, he  went  on,  "  The  Lenape  kn^w  that  liieir 
hearts  were  false,  their  arms  weak,  their  tongues 
forked,  and  they  have  brought  in  a  band  of  Lonp- 


*  T.if  Indian  names  for  tlie  rivers  now  c'ul'nd  "  Konsas" 
and  "Oaoge,"  both  of  whi.;h  tall  into  ilio  \!  :    ari. 

i  Anghce,  l/nng-knivns,  or  Americans. 

t  Mahega  hek'o  alludes  to  that  unfortunate  era,  in  tlie 
history  of  the  LenapA,  so  pathetically  described  by  llrcku- 
•vvalder,  when  they  (terinitted  tliemselvoM  to  be  persuaded 
by  the  whites  to  nbiinilon  ail  tlieir  warlikr  weapon.s  and 
pinvuits,  F.nd  following  those  of  agricniture,  to  leave  lti»  af- 
fairs of  war  entirely  to  the  northern  tribes,  whopuariiiiieeil 
their  safety.  The  coiiseciuonce  wiu  such  as  ir.igbt  have 
be«n  ex|iected,  Ihey  were  treated  with  contumely  and  in- 
*ttstice ;  and  being  compelled,  at  length,  to  resume  th.>sfl 
arras  '..)  which  they  had  bien  for  some  time  unaccustomed, 
tney  sutlered  repeated  defeats  am'  disasters  froia  the  "  six 
natinns,''  and  adjoining  tribes. 

^  The  Mississippi  is  so  called  by  the  Osagei. 


knives  to  defend  them  and  to  drive  the  Wash- 
ashe from  their  hunting  grounds.  Shall  it  be  so  1 
Shall  we  hold  our  bacKs  to  be  scourged  like 
children  1  Shall  we  whine  like  starved  wolves '{ 
See  how  the  pale  faces  can  iiisult  your  chief." 
As  he  spoke  Mahega  tore  the  turba>  with  one 
hand  from  his  head,  and  holding  up  his  severed 
sculp  lock  with  the  other,  while  every  muscle  of 
his  countenance  worked  with  fury,  "  See  what 
the  hand  of  a  white-face  boy  has  done.  Mahega 
slept  under  a  tree,  and  he  whom  they  call  r^etis, 
the  stranger  who  has  eaten  our  meat  and  smoked 
with  our  chiefs,  stole  upon  Mahega,  struck  him 
on  the  head,  and  cut  oil  his  hair."  As  he  utter- 
ed this  audacious  falsehood,  which  was,  ot 
course,  believed  by  all  who  heard  him,  a  terrific 
shout  burst  from  the  assembled  Osages,  and  the 
wily  chief,  striking  while  the  iron  was  hot, 
went  on, 

"  It  is  enough— the  Washashes  are  not  wom- 
en; they  will  dig  up  the  hatchet,  and  throw  it 
into  the  council-lodge  of  these  white-faced  and 
pale-hearted  dugs.  The  great  chief  of  the  Dah- 
cotahs  has  !>poken  to  Mahega;  he  seeks  the 
friendship  of  the  Washashes;  the  Dahcotahs 
are  men;  the  bisons  on  their  hunting  grounds 
are  like  the  leaves  in  the  ibrest.  They  wish  to 
call  the  Washashes  brothers,  they  wail  for  Ma- 
hi;:;a's  words.— What  shall  he  say  V 

A.  tremendous  shout  was  raised  in  reply,  a 
shout  that  could  be  heard  throughout  the  whole 
encampment.  Mahega  saw  that  his  triumph 
was  compk'lf",  and  folding  his  medicine  robe  over 
his  shoulder,  he  once  more  waved  his  hand  for 
t<ilence,  and  dismissed  the  assembly,  saying, 
"  Before  the  sun  sinks  again  the  chiefs  and 
braves  will  meet  in  council.  The  Washashes 
wiil  hear  their  words  and  they  will  be  ready." 
As  he  spoke  he  cast  his  dark  eye  expressively 
downwards  to  the  tomahawk  suspended  at  his 
belt,  and  slowly  re-entered  his  lodge. 

Meanwhile  the  youth  who  had  been  sent 
by  War-Eagle  to  observe  what  was  passing 
in  the  Osage  encampment,  executed  his  com- 
mission with  fidelity  and  address.  Although 
not  sufiiciertly  familiar  with  the  language  to 
catch  all  that  fell  from  Mahfza,  he  yet  learned 
enough  to  satisfy  his  young  chief  that  n  rupture 
was  at  hand.  It  only  remained  now  to  br  proved 
..  hether  it  woisld  take  place  as  th>'  r-'sult  of  an 
oj,  .  council,  or  whether  the  Osages  would  with- 
dr    '  secretly  to  their  new  Dahcotah  allies. 

On  the  morning  succeeding  the  events  above 
related,  War-Eagle  left  the  encampment  before 
daybreak,  partly  to  see  whether  he  could  dis- 
cover any  unusual  stir  among  the  O.sages,  and 
partly  to  revolve  in  his  mind  tlie  course  of  con- 
duct that  he  should  suggest  if  called  upon  to 
give  his  opinion  before  the  Li'uape  council. 
Many  various  emotions  were  strugglir»  in  his 
bo.soin,  and  in  this  respect  the  descendants  of 
Adam,  whether  their  sk-lis  be  white  or  red,  so 
far  resemble  each  other,  that  on  such  occasions 
they  seek  to  avoid  the  turmoil  of  their  fellow- 
men,  and  to  be  for  a  .season  alone  amid  the  works 
of  inanimate  nature. 

It  was  with  imnres'ons  and  feelings  fardif- 
lerent  that  Reginald  and  Prairie-bird  found  them- 
selve^  soon  afle:  sunrise  together,  as  if  by  lacit 
appoinjment,  by  the  great  tree,  under  which  he 
bad  fir.st  seen  her  In  order  to  guard  against  the 
treachery  of  which  he  believed  Mahega  capable, 
he  had  coniinutiioated  to  Bap'.iste  the  events  of 
the  preceding  morning,  and  had  desired  him  to 
v.atch  the  movements  of  the  latter,  especially 


J^?^. 


B  the  Wash- 
hall  it  be  sot 
courged  like 
ve<i  wolves '{ 

your  chief." 
laft  with  one 
p  his  severed 
ry  muscle  ol 
',  "See  what 
ne.  Mahega 
;y  call  JNetih, 
t  and  smoked 
1,  struck  him 

As  he  utter- 
lich  was,  oi 
tiini,  a  terrific 
ages,  and  the 
on  was  hot, 

are  not  wom- 
and  throw  it 
lite-faced  and 
sfoftheDah- 
he  seeks  the 
^e  Dahcotahs 
iting  grounds 
They  wish  to 
wail  for  Ma- 

r' 

id  in  reply,  a 
out  the  whole 
t  his  triumph 
cine  robe  over 
1  his  hand  for 
mbly,  saying, 
lie  chiefs  and 
le  Washashes 
ifill  be  ready." 
e  expressively 
ipenued  at  his 

ad  been  sent 

was  passing 

uted  his  co;n- 

S3.    Although 

;  language  u> 

le  yet  learned 

that  a  rupture 

w  to  hr  proved 

r-'sult  of  an 

would  with- 

;ih  allies. 

events  above 

piuent  before 

could  dis- 

t'sages,  and 

urse  of  cou- 

liUed  upon  to 

ape  council. 

igglir;?  in  his 

iscendants  of 

iie  or  red,  so 

ch  occasions 

their  fcllow- 

nid  the  works 

lings  far  dif- 
(1  found  them- 
as  if  by  lacit 
der  which  he 
d  against  the 
hega  capable, 
the  events  of 
sired  him  to 
ir,  especially 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


ruarding  Prairie-bird  against  any  renewal  of 
his  violence.  The  trusty  forester,  who  had 
grown  extremely  taciturn  since  he  had  observed 
his  young  master's  attachment,  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  and  briefly  promised  to  obey  his  in- 
structions. He  was  too  shrewd  to  appose  a  toi^ 
rent  such  as  (hat  by  which  Reginald  was  carried 
away;  and,  although  it  must  be  confessed  that 
he  had  many  misgivings  as  to  the  reception  that 
the  tidings  would  meet  with  at  the  hands  of  Col- 
onel Brandon,  the  beauty  and  gentleness  of  Prai- 
rie-bird had  so  far  won  upon  bis  rough  nature 
that  he  was  well  disposed  to  protect  her  from  the 
machinations  of  the  Osage.  With  these  inten- 
tions he  followed  her  when  she  lefl  her  lodge, 
Lnd  as  soon  as  she  entered  the  thicket  before  de- 
scribed, he  ensconced,  himself  in  a  shady  corner 
whence  he  could  observe  the  approach  of  any 
parly  from  the  encampment. 

We  will  now  follow  the  steps  of  Wf.r-Eagle, 
who,  having  satisfied  himself  by  a  careful  obser- 
vation of  the  out  piquelte  that  no  immediate 
movement  was  on  foot  among  the  Osages,  turn- 
ed towards  the  undulating  prairies  to  the  west- 
ward of  the  village. 

He  was  in  an  uneasy  and  excited  mood,  both 
from  the  treachery  of  the  Osages  towards  his 
tribe,  and  various  occurrences  which  had  of  late 
wounded  his  feelings  in  the  quarter  where  they 
were  most  sensitive. 

The  victory  over  ielf,  is  the  f-reatest  that  can 
be  achieved  by  man,  it  assumes,  however,  a  dif- 
ferent complexion  m  those  who  are  Kuided  t  y 
the  light  of  nature,  and  in  those  who  have  been 
taught  by  revelation  In.lhe  heathen  it  is  con- 
fined to  the  at  ■  i:s  and  to  the  outward  man, 
whereas  in  the  >  hristian  it  extends  to  the  mo- 
tives and  li-elings  of  the  heart.  The  former  may 
prjare  nn  enemy,  the  latter  must  learn  to  forgive 
and  love  him.  '  But  in  both  cases  the  struggle  is 
severe  in  proportion  to  the  sirenKth  of  the  pas- 
sion which  is  to  be  combated.  In  War-Eagle 
were  combined  many  of  the  noblest  features  of 
Ihe  Indian  character;  but  his  passions  had  all 
Ihe  fierce  intensity  common  tc  tiis  race,  and  al- 
though the  ir.siruction.s  of  Paul  Miiller,  liilling 
like  good  seed  on  a  wild  but  fertile  soil,  had  hu- 
manize.! and  improved  him  ;  his  views  o'' Chris- 
tianity were  incipient  and  indistinct,  while  the 
courage,  pride,  and  feelings  of  his  race  were  in 
the  full  zeniih  of  thoir  power.  He  had  long 
known  that  Prairie-bird  was  not  In.-.  j.»i  '>•  in 
blood,  she  had  grown  up  from  childhood  under 
his  eye,  and  unconsciously  perhaps  at  first,  he 
had  loved  her  and  still  lovtM  her  with  all  the  im- 
passioned fervour  of  his  nature.  It  m,./  be  re- 
membered in  the  earlier  portion  of  this  tale, 
whon  he  first  became  acquainted  with  Reginald, 
ihat  he  had  abstained  from  all  mention  of  her 
name,  nnd  had  avoided  the  subject  whenever 
young  Win;;snund  brought  it  forward.  He  had 
never  yet  asked  Olitipa  to  become  his  wife,  hui 
the  sweet  gentleness  of  her  manner,  and  her 
open  contempt  for  the  addres.ses  of  the  handsome 
and  distinguished  Osage,  had  led  him  to  form  ex- 
pectations favourable  to  his  own  sua.  At  tiie 
same  time  there  was  something  in  the  maiden's 
behaviour  that  had  frequently  cau.sed  him  to 
doubt  whether  she  loved  him,  and  sharing  in  the 
awe  with  which  she  inspired  all  the  Indians 
around  her,  he  had  hitherto  hesitate  1  and  feared 
to  make  a  disiinct  avowal.  Of  late  he  had  been 
so  much  occupied  in  observing  ihe  suspicious 
movements  of  the  Osnges  that  his  aitention  had 
been  somewhat  withdrawn  from  Olitipa :  he  was 


aware  of  her  having  become  acquainted  witii 
Reginald,  and  the  adventure  of  the  preceding 
day,  which  had  been  communicated  to  him,  fill- 
ed him  with  an  uneasiness  Ihat  he  coi.ld  not 
conceal  from  himself,  although  he  had  succeed- 
ed in  concealing  it  from  others. 

In  this  frame  of  mind,  he  was  returning  to  the 
camp,  along  the  course  of  the  streamlet  pass- 
ing ihrough  Ihe  grove  where  Ihe  rencounter 
of  the  preceding  day  had  occurred.  When  he 
reochec!  the  opening  before  described,  his  eye.s 
rested  on  a  sight  that  transfixed  him  to  the  spot. 
Seated  on  one  of  the  projecting  roots  of  the  an- 
cient tree  was  Prairie-bird,  her  eye  and  cheek 
glowing  with  happiness,  and  her  ear  drinking  in 
the  whispered  vows  of  her  newly  betrothed  lover; 
her  hand  was  clasped  in  his,  and  more  than  once 
he  pressed  it  tenderly  to  his  lips.  For  several 
minutes,  the  Indian  stood  silent  and  motionless 
as  a  statue :  despair  seemed  to  have  checked  the 
current  of  nis  blood,  but  by  slow  degrees  con- 
sciousness returned;  he  saw  her,  the  maiden 
whom  he  had  served  and  loved  for  weary  months 
and  years,  now  interchanging  with  another  to- 
kens of  affection  not  to  be  mistaken,  and  that 
other  a  stranger  whom  he  had  himself  lately 
brought  by  his  own  invitation  from  a  distant 
region. 

The  demon  of  jealousy  took  instant  possession 
of  his  soul ;  every  other  thought,  feeling,  and 
passion,  was  lor  the  time  annihilated,  the  nobler 
impulses  of  his  nature  were  forgotten,  and  he 
was,  in  a  moment,  iranslbrnied  to  a  merciless 
savage,  bent  on  swifl  and  tieadly  vengeance. 
He  only  paiisi  d  as  in  doiitit,  hmv  he  should  kill 
his  rival ;  pei  naps,  whether  lie  should  kill  them 
both  ;  his  eye  dwelt  upon  them  with  a  stem 
ferocity,  as  he  loosened  the  unerring  tomahawk 
from  his  belt ;  another  moment  he  paused,  for 
his  hand  trembled  convulsively,  and  a  cold  sweat 
stood  like  dew  upon  his  brow.  At  this  terrible 
crisis  of  his  passion,  a  low  voice  whispered  in 
his  ear,  in  the  Delaware  tongue, 

"  Would  the  Lenap6  chief  slain  his  Medicine 
with  a  brother's  blood  V  War-Eagle,  turning 
round,  encountered  the  steady  eye  of  Baptists; 
he  gave  no  answer,  but  directed  his  fiery  glanee 
towards  the  spot  where  Ihe  unconscious  lover* 
were  seated,  and  the  half  raised  weapon  still  vi- 
brated under  the  impulse  of  the  internal  struggle 
that  shook  every  muscle  of  the  Indian's  frame. 
Profiting  by  the  momentary  pau.se,  Baptiste 
continued,  in  the  same  tone,  "Shall  the  toma- 
hawk of  the  War-Eagle  strike  an  adopted  son  of 
thcUnamil*  The  Bad  Spirit  has  entered  my 
brother's  heart;  let  him  hold  a  talk  with  himself; 
and  remember  that  he  is  the  son  of  Tamenund." 

By  an  effort  of  self-control,  such  as  none  but 
an  Indian  can  exercise,  War-Eagle  subdued,  in- 
stanianeouslv,  all  outward  indication  of  the  tem- 
pest that  had  been  aroused  in  his  breast.  Re- 
placing ihc  tomahawk  in  his  belt,  he  drew  him- 
self proudly  to  his  full  height,  and,  fixing  on  the 
woodsman  an  eye  calm  and  steady  as  his  own, 
he  replied, 

"  Grande-Hache  speaks  truth ;  War-Eagle  is 
a  chief;  the  angry  Spirit  is  strong;  but  he  trara- 
pies  it  under  his  feet."    He  then  added,  in  a 


•Ht 


*  After  their  first  mcetinif,  in  which  Reginald  had  saved 
tho  lifo  nf  War-f;i>^Ip,  tho  latter  had  uddpted  his  new 
fri(  lid.  lint  only  as  a  brother,  but  ns  a  mcnilirr  of  ttiat  pur- 
ticiii  of  his  tribe  who  were  called  Ilnanii,  and  of  which  the 
lurtln  was  tho  .Mi  diiiuc,  or  s.icrod  synibcd  ;  afler  the  ratili- 
rati.in  of  such  a  rnveiiant  of  brotherhood,  each  party  is.  ac- 
cordiiiL'  N»  Indian  cnstom.  solemnly  bound  to  defend  tho 
uther,  on  uU  occa»ioiis,  at  the  risk  of  his  own  iife. 


86 


THE   PRAIRIE -BIRD. 


lower  tone,  "War-Eagle  will  spenk  in  Nelis; 
not  iiuw;  il'  his  wliili;  hrotliei's  totigsc  li:i:<  been 
lurUuil,  tiie  Aludiciuu  ut' ilic  Unaiiii  .>ljiill  noi  ]>\o- 
tecl  liiin.  'i'lie  sky  is  very  hliicli,  ami  Wai-Iiiif;le 
has  i;()  tViond  jell,"  !So  aayiii;i;,  itic  liiUian  tliiuvv 
his  li^lit  lilariliei  uver  his  bhunldcr  a.iti  stulliud 
gluoiiiily  tioiii  the  spot. 

Hajuisle  Iblluwed  wilh  his  eye  llie  retreating' 
figure  ol'  llie  Delaware,  until  it  wus  lu>l  in  the 
dense  loiiage  ol  the  wuud. 

"  lie  w  a  noble  relluw,"iiaid  the  rough  hunter, 
hall'  aluud,  leaning  on  his  long  rifle,  and  pursu- 
ing the. thread  ol'  his  own  relleciiuns.  "  He  is 
one  of  the  old  iiort  ul'  Ingians,  and  there's  but 
few  ol"  'em  kit.  I've  been  with  him  in  several 
skrimmages,  and  I've  seen  him  strike  and  scalp 
more  than  one  Dahcotah;  but  I  never  saw  the 
glare ot  his  eye  so  wild  and  blood-thirsty  before; 
if  he  had  kept  his  purpose,  my  old  sinews  would 
have  had  some  trouble  to  save  M:ister  Reginald 
from  that  tomahawk.  It's  well  fur  him  that  I've 
lived  lung  enough  among  the  Delawares  to  know 
the  ins  and  outs  uf  their  natur',  as  well  as  Juhn 
Skellup  at  the  ferry  knows  the  sand-bars  and 
channels  in  Bearcreek  Shallows.  I  thought  the 
Itnami  Medicine  whii'pered  in  his  ear  mighr  do 
something ;  but  I  scarcely  hoped  it  could  smoth- 
er such  a  lire  in  a  minute.  I  remember,  when  I 
-was  young,  I  was  in  a  hot  passion,  nuw  and 
then,  my.self  Capolcl  I'm  sometimes  in  a  pas- 
sion still,  when  I  think  uf  Iho.secut-tliroat  Slou.x, 
and  if  my  bristles  are  up,  it  takes  some  time  to 
smooth  'em  down."  Here  the  woodsman's  band 
unconsciously  rested  for  a  moment  on  the  liuge 
axe  suspended  at  his  belt ;  but  his  musings  took 
another  course,  as  he  continued  his  muttered 
soliloquy. 

"  Well,  I  sometimes  think  the  hears  and  the 
deer  have  more  reason  than  human  critiur.-i,  ay, 
and  I  believe  that  shot  i.su't  overwide  o'  tlie 
mark.  Look  at  them  two  youngsters,  M;ister 
Reginald  and  War-Eagle,  two  brave,  honest 
hearts  as  ever  lived;  one  sai'es  the  oth.-r's  lile; 
they  become  brothers  and  swear  friendship;  of  a 
sudden,  I  am  obliged  to  step  in  between  'em,  to 
prevent  one  from  braining  the  other  v;ith  a  tom- 
ahawk. And  what's  the  cause  of  all  this  hate 
and  fury  1  Why,  love — a  pair  of  black  eyes  and 
red  lips;  a  strange  kind  of  love,  in'ieed,  that 
makes  a  man  hate  and  kill  his  best  friend ;  thank 
Heaven,  I  have  nothing  to  do  wilh  such  love; 
and  I  say,  as  I  said  before,  that  the  dumb  ani- 
mals have  more  reason  than  human  criituru. 
Well,  I  must  do  all  I  can  to  make  'em  frieni.l> 
agam,  for  a  blind  man  might  see  they'll  need 
each  other's  help,  ere  many  dJiys  are  past !" 

So  saying,  the  woodsman  threw  his  rifle  into 
the  hollow  of  his  arm,  and  moved  towards  Regi- 
nald Brandon,  v;ho,  unconscious  of  the  danger 
that  he  had  so  narrowly  escaped,  was  still  en- 
gaged with  Prairie-bird  in  that  loving  dialogue 
■which  finds  no  satiety  in  endless  reiteration. 

Bapiiste  drew  near,  and,  after  the  usual  greet- 
injs,  look  an  opportunity,  as  he  thought  unub- 
stTveil  by  Praine-bird,  of  making  a  sign  to  Re- 
ginald that  he  wished  to  spenk  with  him  in  pri- 
vate ;  but  the  maiden,  watcht'til  of  every  move- 
ment directly  or  indirectly  affecting  her  lover, 
:ind  already  awarf  of  the  iiitrigues  and  treachery 
«>l'  the  Osages,  said  to  him  with  her  usual  sim- 
plicity of  manner,  "  Baptiste,  if  yon  have  aught 
to  say  rt-quirina;  my  absence,  I  will  go;  hut  as 
thore  ,Tre  dangers  npproncliins:  th.Tt  thre.iten  u^ 
all  alike,  do  noi  fear  to  speak  before  me.  I  know 
soiiieihing  of  these  people,  and  though  only  an 


iinsl.'illed  maiden,  my  thoughts  might  be  of  some 
iivail." 

'I'he  sluiily  liunier,  iilliiunph  possessed  of  ;i 
vhrowd  juil:.-.iiiiil,  w.i^  Miiiiewhai  eunl'used  by 
tins i.iiecl  ii)i)nal ;  bill  alter  .siiiunihiiig  iluwii  the 
hair  of  hi.-,  lia  cap  liir  a  lew  moiiit'iiis,  as  w..i.s 
Ills  custom  whfii  1  iigaged  in  re  eclioii,  he  iv- 
Miheil  lo>pcak  bel'ure  her  u  itlioui  coiici.'ahnLiit; 
and  he  pruieeded  accordingly,  with  the  blunt 
'lonesly  of  his  natuie,  to  narrate  to  them  all  the 
naiticiilars  of  his  late  interview  with  War- 
l^agle.  Dining  his  recital,  both  the  auiliiors 
changed  colour  inure  than  once,  with  dili'erentf 
vet  .sympathetic  emotions;  and  when  he  conclu- 
ded, Reginald  suddenly  arose,  and,  fixing  his 
eye  upoii  the  maiden's  countenance,  as  if  he 
vvould  read  her  soul,  he  said, 

"  Prairie-bird,  1  conjure  you  by  all  you  love 
on  earth,  and  by  all  your  hopes  of  Heaven  I  tell 
me  tiiily,  if  you  have  known  and  encouraged 
these  leelin;.'s  in  War-Eagle  1" 

The  dark  eyes  that  had  been  cast  to  the 
around  wilh  various  painful  emotions,  were 
raised  at  this  appeal,  and  met  her  lover's  search- 
iiig  look  with  the  modest  courage  of  conscious 
iruth  as  she  replied, 

"  lleginuld,  is  it  possible  that  you  can  ask  me 
such  a  question  '!  Olitipa,  the  loundliiig  of  the 
Delawares,  loved  War-Eagle  as  ;;!:"  loved  Win- 
genund  ;  she  wa>  brought  up  in  the  same  lodge 
with  both  ;  she  called  both,  brother;  she  thought 
I'.f  them  only  as  such  !  Ha..'  War-Eagle  ever 
a-.kt'c|  fur  tiiher  love,  she  would  have  told  him 
^lie  had  none  other  to  give  !  She  knew  of  none 
other,  until— until — "  The  presence  of  a  third 
person  checked  the  words  that  sirug;.'led  for  ut- 
terance ;  her  deep  eyes  lilled  with  tears,  and  she 
hid  them  on  Reginald's  bo.soin. 

"  1  were  worse  than  an  infidel,  could  I  doubt 
thy  purity  and  truih,"  he  exclaimed  wilh  fer- 
vour; "Baptiste,  I  will  sj)eak  with  my  Indian 
liiother, — 1  pity  him  from  my  heart — I  will 
>irive  all  in  iny  power  to  soothe  his  sorrow  ;  for 
I,  and  I  alone  can  know  what  he  must  suffer, 
who  has,  in  seciet  and  in  vain,  loved  such  a  be- 
ing ns  this!    Let  lis  return." 

Slowly  and  sadly  thev  wended  their  way  to 
rhe  encampment,  the  guivie  bringing  up  the  rear. 
He  was  thoroughly  convinced  that  Prairie-bird 
had  s|xiken  the  triith :  every  look,  every  accent 
carried  conviction  with  it;  but  he  leared  for  the 
meeting  between  the  young  m'sn,  being  fully 
aware  of  the  impetuosity  of  Re{;inald's  charac- 
ter, and  of  the  intense  excitement  that  now  af- 
fected the  Indian's  mind.  He  determined,  how- 
ever, to  leave  them  to  them8el\'e.s,  for  he  had 
lived  enough  among  men  of  stormy  and  ungov- 
erned  passions  to  know,  that  in  a  tiU-a-lite  be- 
tween two  high  and  generous  spirits  a  conce.s- 
sion  will  often  be  made,  to  which  pride  might, 
in  the  presence  of  others,  never  have  submitted. 

On  reaching  their  quarters  in  the  encamp- 
ment, they  found  Paul  Miiller  standing  thought- 
fully before  Piairie-bird's  tent,  into  which,  after 
exchanging  a  brief  but  Qordial  greeting,  he  and 
the  maiden  withdrew,  leaving  Reginald  and  the 
guide  to  retire  into  the  adjoining  lodge  of  Tame- 
nund. 

War-Eagle,  who  had  posted  himself  in  a  spot 
whence,  without  being  seen  himself,  he  could 
observe  their  movements,  now  walked  slowly 
forward  to  the  entrance  of  the  tent,  into  which 
\r:  wa  ;  immediately  invited  by  the  Missionary; 
his  manner  was  grave  and  composed,  nor  could 
the  most  observant  eve  hiive  traced,  in  the  lines 


ht  be  of  some 

ISSiCSSCii   o/'  u 

I'liiifuscil  Ijy 
nin  ilowii  the 
L'iii>,  ii.s  was 
'cliuii,  lie  IV- 
loiici.-alinLiit; 
ill)  the  blillU 
ihein  all  the 
with  War- 
the  auilitors 
nth  dift'ereufr 
]a  he  conclu- 
li,  fixing  hisi 
ice,  as  if  he 

all  you  love 

Beaveii  I  tell 

encouraged 

cast  to  the 
otioiis,  were 
iver's  seai'ch- 
of  conscious 

1  can  ask  me 
ulliiis;  of  the 
» loved  Win- 
!  s.inie  lodge 
she  thought 
r-fSagle  ever 
ive  tuld  him 
new  of  none 
ce  of  a  third 
g^'lcd  for  ut- 
ears,  and  she 

ould  I  doubt 
led  with  fer- 
h  my  Indian 
eart — I  will 
,  sorrow ;  for 
must  sufler, 
;d  such  a  be- 

iheir  way  to 
X  up  the  rear. 

Prairie-bird 
every  accent 
eared  for  the 

being  fully 
lid's  charac- 
that  now  af- 
mined,  how- 
,  for  he  had 
'  and  ungov- 
>ito.-a-tite  be- 
lts a  concev 
pride  might, 
e  submitted, 
the  encamp- 
ling  thought- 
which,  after 
;ting,  he  and 
nald  and  the 
ge  of  Tame- 

«lf  in  a  spot 
■If,  he  could 
Iked  slowly 
,  into  which 
Missionary; 
(i,  nof  could 
.  in  the  lilies 


T  H  E   P  II A  I  R I  E  -  B  I R  D. 


8T 


of  his  countenance,  the  slightest  shade  of  excite- 
ment or  iigiiuiion. 

After  the  usual  salutation,  he  said,  "W.'ir- 
Eagle  will  sneak  to  the  DlHck-Father  presently; 
lie  hits  now  low  words  f(jr  the  ear  of  Olilipa." 

Paul  Midler,  looking  on  him  with  a  smile, 
benevolent  though  somewhat  melancholy,  said, 
"  I  shut  mv  I'ais,  my  son,  and  go,  for  I  know- 
that  War-liaule  will  speak  nothing  that  liis  sis- 
ter should  not  hear;"  and  so  s.iyiiig,  he  retired 
into  his  adjacent  compartment  oi'  ihu  tent.  Prai- 
Tie-I)ird,  conscious  of  the  painful  scene  that 
awaited  her,  sat  in  eml)arrassed  silence,  and  for 
upwards  of  a  minute  War-iiagle  euntemplated 
"without  speaking  the  sad  but  lovely  expression 
of  the  maiden's  countenance;  that  long  and  pier- 
cing look  told  him  all  that  he  dreaded  to  know; 
he  saw  that  Baptlsttthad  spokci  to  her;  he  saw 
that  his  hopes  were  blasted ;  and  -■itill  his  riveted 
gaze  was  fixed  upon  her,  as  the  eyes  of  one  ban- 
ished for  life  dwell  upon  the  last  receding  tints 
of  the  home  ilmt  he  is  leaving  for  ever.  Collect- 
ing, at  length,  all  the  stoic  lirnmess  of  his  nature, 
lie  spoke  to  her  in  the  Delaware  tongue;  the 
■worils  that  he  used  were  few  and  simple,  but 
in  them,  and  in  the  tone  of  his  voice,  there  was 
so  much  delicacy  mingled  with  fuch  depth  of 
feeling,  that  Pi-airie-bifd  could  not  refrain  (rom 
tears. 

Answering  him  in  the  same  language,  she 
blended  her  accustomed  sincerity  of  expression 
with  gentle  words  of  soothing  kindness;  and,  in 
concluding  her  reply,  she  took  his  hand  in  hers, 
saying,  "  Olitipa  has  long  loved  her  brothers, 
"VVar-Eagle  and  Wingenund,  let  not  a  cloud 
come  between  them  nr<w  ;  her  heart  is  not  chan- 
ged to  the  preat  warrior  of  Lenapr-;  his  sister 
trusts  to  his  protection  ;  she  is  proud  of  his  fame ; 
she  has  no  other  love  to  give  him ;  her  race,  her 
leligioii,  her  heart  forbid  it  I  but  he  is  her  dear 
brother;  he  will  not  be  angrv,  nor  leave  her. 
.  "  Mah6ga  and  the  Osa;^  are  become  en- 
emies; tiie  Dahcotah  trail  is  near;  Tamenund  is 
old  and  weak ;  where  shall  Olitipa  find  a  broth- 
er's love,  and  a  brother's  aid,  if  War-Eagle 
turns  away  his  face  from  her  now  1" 

The  noble  heart  to  which  she  appealed  had 
gone  through  its  fiery  ordeal  of  torture,  and  tri- 
umphed over  it.  After  the  manner  of  his  tribe, 
the  Delaware,  before  relinquishing  her  hand, 
pressed  it  for  a  moment  to  his  chest,  in  token  of 
affection,  and  said,  "  It  is  enough,  my  sister's 
"words  are  good,  they  are  not  spilt  upon  the 
ground ;  let  Mahcga  or  the  Dancotahs  come 
near  the  lodge  of  Olitipa,  and  they  shall  iearn 
that  War-Eagle  is  her  brother!"  The  chief- 
tain's hand  rested  lightly  on  his  tomahawk,  and 
his  countenance,  as  he  withdrew  from  the  tent, 
■wore  an  expression  of  high  and  stern  resolve. 

How  often  in  life  is  tlie  observation  forced 
■upon  IIS,  that  artlessness  is  the  highest  perfec- 
tion of  art !  It  is  an  axiom,  the  truth  of  which 
remains  unchanged  under  whatever  aspect  we 
view  it,  and  is  indisputable  even  in  \U  con- 
verse; thus,  as  in  writing,  the  apparent  ease  and 
.simplicity  of  style  is  the  result  of  frequent  cor- 
rection and  laborious  .'tudy;  so  in  corpoieal  ex- 
ercises, the  r"st  assiduous  practice  must  be 
combined  witn  the  highest  physical  qualifica- 
tions, ere  the  dancer  or  the  posture-master  can 
emulate  the  unconscious  grace  displayed  in  ihe 
movements  of  a  sportive  kitten,  ov  a  playful 
child. 

Had  Prairie-bird  been  familiar  with  all  the 
learned  treatises  on  rhetoric  that  have  appeared 


from  the  time  of  Aristotle  (o  the  present  day, 
she  could  not  have  :ielecied  topics  belter  ealcu- 
lut'.'d  10  move  and  solien  the  hen  .  ol  her  Indian 
brodier.  And  yet  she  had  no  utli«r  instructor 
ill  the  ;irl  than  the  natuiul  delicacy  of  her  sex 
and  chniarter.  Wlule  the  triliuie  to  his  warlike 
fame  gratified  his  pride,  the  unsuidied  sisterly 
a/Toction  of  her  tone  and  manner  soothed  ins 
wouniled  feelings;  iind  while  her  brief  pieiure 
of  her  unprotected  ;»tatc  aroused  ail  his  noliler 
and  more  generous  sentiments  no  bieaih  of  allu- 
sion to  his  successful  rival's  name  kindled  the 
emb'srs  id' jealousy  that  slumbered  beneath  them. 
As  he  walked  from  her  tent,  the  young  In- 
dian's heart  dilated  within  him ;  he  troii  the 
earth  with  a  proud  and  lordly  step ;  he  had  grap- 
pled with  his  passion;  and  though  it  had  b«en 
riveted  "  to  his  soul  with  hooks  of  steel,"  he  had 
plucked  it  forth  with  an  unflinching  hand,  and 
he  now  met  his  deep-rooted  grief  with  the  same 
lofty  brow  wid  unconquerable  will  with  which 
he  would  have  bravsd  the  tortures  of  the  Dah- 
cotah slake. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

In  which  the  Render  iv:.l  find  a  moral  Disijtiisilion  liome- 
what  tedious,  a  true  Story  BUiiiewhut  iiit'rediMo,  a  Uon- 
ffrdiice  that  cndfi  in  Veiice,  and  a  (Council  thut  lietokeni 
War. 

Ir  is  not  a  feature  in, the  character  of  Indians 
to  do  anything  by  halves;  their  love  and  their 
hate,  their  patience  and  impatience,  their  absti- 
nence and  self-indulgence,  all  are  apt  to  run 
into  extremes.  Moderation  is  es.sentially  a  vir- 
tue of  civilization;  it  is  the  result  of  forethought, 
reasoning,  and  a  careful  calculation  of  conse- 
quences, whereas  the  qualities  of  the  Indian  are 
rather  the  children  of  impulse,  and  are  less  mod- 
ified by  conflicting  motives;  hence,  Ihe  lights 
and  shades  of  char-'.cter  are  broader  and  more 
distinct;  and  though  ;t  may  be  perhaps  impossi- 
ble that  Indian  viilany  should  assume  a  deeper 
dye  than  that  which  may  unfortunately  be  met 
with  among  civilized  nations,  it  is  not  asserting 
too  much  to  say,  that  there  are  to  be  found 
among  these  savages  instances  of  disinterested, 
self-devoied  heroism,  such  as  are  rarely  heard 
of  beyond  the  wotld  of  chivaly  and  romance. 

This  assertion  will  be  received  by  many  read- 
ers with  an  incredulous  .-imile,  and  still  more 
wijl  be  disposed  to  believe  that  it  can  be  true 
only  in  reference  to  such  virtues  or  actions  as 
are' the  immediate  ri'sultofa  generous  impulse; 
but  examples  are  not  wanting  to  prove  the  argu- 
ment to  be  defensible  upon  higher  grounds.  It 
will  readily  be  admitted,  that  retributive  ju.stice, 
although  consonant  to  the  first  principles  of  rea- 
son and  natural  law,  cannot,  when  deliberately 
enforced,  be  considered  in  the  \\^h\  of  a  sudden 
impulse,  much  less  can  it  be  so  considered  when 
the  party  enforcing  it  is  to  be  himself  the  suffer- 
er by  it;  and  those  who  are  conversant  with  the 
history  of  the  Indian  nations  car;  testily  that  par- 
allel instances  to  that  which  follows  have  fre- 
quently occurred  among  them. 

Some  years  ago,  a  young  married  Trxiian,  re- 
siding on  the  western  bank  of  ihe  Mississippi, 
qunrrellud  with  another  of  his  tribe,  and  in  the 
heat  of  passion  killed  him  with  a  blow  of  his 
tomahawk.  After  a  few  moments'  reflection,  he 
walked  direct  to  the  village,  and  piespjitiiig  him- 
self before  the  wigwam,  of  the  murdeied  man, 
called  together  his  relations,  and  addressed  tbeia 
as  follows;  ..  .,,,.! 


y\   1 


i^ 


-^iiL  ■.ajtaaiijjefc 


88 


THE   PRAIRIE-niKD. 


"  Your  relative  was  mv  friend ;  we  were  to- 
gether,— sotne  angry  wows  arose  between  us, — I 
killed  him  on  the  spot.  M}'  lite  is  in  your  hand.<i, 
and  1  have  comt  to  ofTer  it  to  you  -,  but  (he  sum- 
mer hunting  season  has  now  begun.  1  have  a 
wilt'  uiid  Ml  line  young  children,  tlicy  have  done 
you  no  wrong;  I  wish  to  go  out  into  the  woods 
to  {{ill  a  pluntiful  supply  ot  meat,  such  as  may 
feed  them  during  the  winter;  when  1  have  done 
that,  I  will  r.'turn  and  give  luysell'to  you." 

Tlif  stei  1  -sembly  ul'  llu,urner^  (javc  their  as- 
sent, and  th<' ..  .ung man  retired:  tor  many  weeks 
be  toiled  iiulet'atigably  in  the  chase,  his  wile 
jerked  and  dried  the  meal  as  Iv.  daily  brought  it 
in,  until  he  saw  that  th^  supply  was  ample  tor 
the  on.suin^  winter;  he  then  bid  farewell  to  her 
and  to  his  Tittle  ones,  and  once  more  ]ireseniiiig 
him.self  before  the  wigwam  of  his  late  friun  lie 
said,  "  I  am  come :  my  squaw  has  meat  for  the 
winter,  my  life  is  now  yours!"  To  these  words 
the  eldest  male  relative  of  the  deceased  replied, 
"  it  is  well:"  and  rising  from  the  ground,  execu- 
ted on  the  unresisting  oiTender  the  summary 
justice  of  Indian  retribution,  by  cleavini;  his 
skull  with  a  tomahawk.  Neither  the  self-devo- 
tion of  the  one,  nor  the  unrelenting  severity  of 
the  other,  excited  any  peculiar  sensation,  each 
having  acted  according  to  the  strict,  though  bar- 
barous usage  of  the  tribe. 

Among  a  people  accustomed  to  look  with  sto- 
ic composure  un  scenes  such  as  that  just  de- 
scribed, War-Eagle  had  already  won  a  distin- 
guishea  name,  and  he  supported  it  on  ihis  trying 
occasion  by  resigning  what  was  dearer  to  him 
than  life,  and  erushing,  as  under  a  weight  of  iron, 
that  passion  which  had  been  for  years  tiie  hope 
and  nourishment  of  his  heart;  whether,  albeit 
crushed  and  smothered,  it  still  lingered  there,  is 
a  secret  which  it  is  neither  our  wish  nor  our 
province  to  betray,  but  regarding  which  the  read- 
er may  form  his  own  opinion  from  the  subse- 
quent conduct  of  the  chief 

His  first  step  was  to  seek  Reginald  Brandon, 
whorr"  >.it  icMted,  by  a  silent  signal,  to  leave  the 
lodgi-  «iia  j'oiiow  him.  Our  hero  mechanically 
oheyiiU,  in  -i  ,)ainful  slate  of  excitement  and  agi- 
ia«icv  ,  h-elin^  that  he  had  been  the  unconscious 
.-in-aii;, '-.'  bli. sling  all  the  dearest  hopes  Of  his  In- 
uiau  friend;  and  although  he  had  intended  no 
injury,  iie  was  sensible  that  he  had  done  one, 
such  as  man  can  rarely  forgive,  and  can  never 
repair;  for  even  had  the  romantic  generosity  of 
friendship  prompted  him  to  resign  all  pretensions 
to  Prairie-nird,  he  felt  that  such  a  resignation, 
while  he  was  secure  of  her  afTeciion;),  would  be 
mere  mockery  and  insult.  He  knew  also  how 
prominent  a  feature  is  revenge  in  the  Indian 
character,  and  thought  it  not  improbable  that  he 
might  be  now  following  his  conductor  to  some 
secluded  spot,  where  their  rivalry  should  be  de- 
cided bv  mortal  strife,  and  iht  svirt'ivor  return  to 
claim  the  lovely  prize.  This  la.'-i  thought,  which 
would,  under  any  other  circumstances,  have  ner- 
ved his  arm  and  made  his  heart  exult  within 
him,  now  overwhelmed  him  with  sadness,  for  he 
Joved  both  'Vingenund  and  War-Eagle,  they 
were  endeared  to  him  by  reciprocal  benefits,  and 
he  shrunk  from  a  quarrel  with  the  latter  as  from 
a  fratricide. 

Meanwhile  the  Indian  strode  rapidly  forward ; 
neither  could  Reginald  detect  the  feelings  that 
lurked  beneath  the  dignified  and  unmoved  com- 
posure of  his  countenance. 

After  walking  in  silence  for  some  minutes, 
hey  reached  a  small  hollow,  where  a  few  scat- 


tered t'  ertiujhes  screened  them  from  the  ob< 
servatioii  of  the  stragglers  round  the  tklrts  >  (the 
Delaware  camp :  here  the  ihief  sudi  enly  li.i  ;ted, 
and  turning  iviwards  ileginuld,  ticnt  o;i  ^im  the 
full  gaze  ot  his  dark  and  lustrous  '"  •'i-;  the  lat- 
ter observed  with  surprise  ili.i;,  thei'  »xpi.;ssion, 
as  well  as  that  <:f  his  nsuiiMy  haug  •  leatures, 
was  a  iltep  composed  ii'..lanct<oly. 

At  length  the  Deja'vare  br.  «  the  long  and 
painful  silence,  audrcsdng  his  .oinpanton,  after 
liis  iiuperl'eti  notion  of  .''.Inglish,  in  the  following 
words : 

"  The  tiroiv,  ^jiirit  se::t  a  cloud  between  Neds 
and  Wai-K.iijlu— a  very  black  cloud;  the  light- 
ning came  from  it  and  blinded  the  eyea  of  the 
Lenap*  eliief,  so  that  he  looked  on  his  brother 
and  thought  he  auw  au  enemy.  The  Had  8])irit 
whispered  in  his  eui  i^al  the  tongue  of  Neiis  wb.s 
Ibrkeil;  that  the  heart  cfOlitipa  was  false;  that 
she  had  listened  to  mockingbird,  and  had 
mingled  for  War-F         i\  cup  of  poison." 

The  Oeliiware  yiiu  i  I'lr  a  moment;  his  eye 
retained  its  steady  I  sad  expression,  his  lips 
were  firmly  coinpre.-  ■  d,  and  uot  a  muscle  be- 
trajed  the  intensity  of  his  feeling;  but  Keginalil 
appreciated  rightly  the  self-control  that  had  coii- 
qjuered,  in  so  severe  a  struggle,  and  grai>ping  hi.s 
friend's  hand  he  said, 

"Noble  and  generous  son  of  the  Lenapr,  the 
Bad  Spirit  has  no  (lower  over  a  heart  like  yours ! 
Are  we  not  brotheisl  Have  not  the  waters  of 
the  Muskingum,  ;iml  the  trearieroiis  kiiil'e  of  the 
Huron,  tied  our  hearts  together,  so  that  no  fear, 
no  suspicion,  no  falsehood,  can  come  between 
theml  Netis  believed  that  War-Eagle  lovei 
Olitipa  only  as  a  sibler,  or  he  vould  rather  have 
given  his  scalp  to  Mah6ga  than  have  .spoken 
soft  words  in  the  maiden's  eai  i" 

"My  brother's  words  are  true,"  replied  the 
Delaware,  in  the  low  and.musical  tone  for  which 
his  voice  was  remarkable;  "War-Eagle  know^ 
it ;  he  has  dreamed,  and  is  now  awake :"  Olitipa  is 
his  sister— the  Great  Spirit  decrees  that  no  child 
of  an  Indian  warrior  shall  call  her  mother.  It  is 
enough."  The  countenance  of  the  Delaware  as- 
sumed a  sterner  expression  as  he  continued: 

"  M?  brother  must  be  ready ;  let  his  rifle  be 
loadecf  and  his  eye  open,  for  Tamsnund  has 
seen  the  snow  of  many  winters;  the  Black  Fa- 
ther is  good  and  true,  but  hi.s  hand  knows  not 
the  tomahawk:  the  Osage  panther  will  ',,ouch 
near  the  tent  of  Olitipa,  and  the  feet  of  ne  Cut- 
throats* will  not  be  far;  before  the  sun  ,',ocs  down 
War-Eagle  will  see  his  brother  again. ' 

Thus  saying,  and  waiting  no  reply,  he  return- 
ed with  hearty  strides  towards  the  village.  Re- 
ginald gazed  long  and  earnestly  after  the  reireat- 
mg  figure  of  the  Indian,  forgetting  awhile,  in  ad- 
miration of  his  heroic  self-control,  the  dangers 
that  beset  his  beloved  and  his  party. 

"Could  I,"  he  asked  himself,  "could  I,  under 
the  same  circumstances,  with  all  the  light,  and 
aid,  and  high  motives  of  Christianity,  have 
shown  the  forbearance,  generosity,  and  self-com- 
mand displayed  by  this  noble  heathen  1  Could 
I  have  seen  all  my  Ion  -cherished  hopes,  my 
warm  and  passionate  love,  blasted  in  a  moment, 
and  have  so  soon,  so  fr:inkiy,  and  su  fully  excul- 
pated and  forgiven  the  man  to  whom  I  owed  my 
misery  I  I  hope  I  might  have  done  so,  still  "I 
am  alraid  to  ask  my  heart  the  question  I" 

Reginald's  cheek  glowed  under  the  influen'^e 


of  this  se 
selfof  th( 
related  w 
warmest 
brother's 
exprcssib 
sue  novi 
never  bei 
leelings 
had  show 
ly  fraterir 
valry  bet' 
at  a  crisis 
cessary  li 
by  which 
Meanw 
bad  bw'en 
and  cunr 
several 
tion  betw 
latter  of 
thus  uneV 
on  hi:*  am 
council 
treaty  \si 
Delaware 
mously  c 
have  coin 
to  have  ci 
The  resu 


*  The  Sioux,  or  Dahcotahs,  are  an  designated  by  tha 
Missouri  tribe). 


THE    PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


8» 


of  this  xelf-gcrutiny,  and  he  cladly  availed  him- 
self of  the  approach  of  Paul  Muller,  tu  whom  he 
related  what  had  pasoed,  and  expressed  in  the 
a'armest  lerms'hi!)  admiration  of  hia  Indian 
brother's  conduct.  The  goixl  Missionary  lelt  in- 
expressibly relieved  at  hearing  the  amicable  is- 
Mue  nou  announced  to  him,  tor  although  he  had 
never  Wvn  made  a  confidant  of  War-Kiigle's 
leelings  towards  Olltipa,  lirs  own  oh>'<ervulion 
had  shown  him  of  late  that  they  were  not  exact- 
ly fraternal,  and  he  had  viewed  wiih  dread  a  ri- 
valry lieiween  the  two  Tiigh-spirited  young  men, 
at  a  crisis  when  the  aid  of  both  might  be  so  ne- 
cessary to  protect  his  fair  uupil  from  the  perils 
by  which  (die  was  surrounded. 

Meanwhile  the  machinations  of  Mahcga,  which 
bad  bw'en  conducted  with  his  accustomed  secrecy 
and  cunning,  were  almost  ripu  for  execution ; 
several  runners  had  interchanged  communica- 
tion between  i)im  and  the  Daiicutah  chief,  the 
latter  of  whom  was  delighted  at  the  prosp'' -t 
thus  unexpectedly  otTered,  of  taking  venpe:i 
on  his  amiL'nt  and  hated  Lenape  (bcs      A 
council  ct  the  Usages  had  been  held,  ; 
treaty  with  the  Sioux  and  a  ruptui 
Delaware*  weie  discussed,  and  alnu. 
mously  carried,   IVlah6ga  appearing  riii 
have  coincided  in  the  general  delerniinatic 
to  have  caused  it  by  his  influence  and  inlii    les. 
The  result  of  this  council  was,  that  tlie  Osage 
village    inimediaiely  sinnk   their   lodges,   the 
liorscs  were  driven  in,  skins,  poiiltry,  provisions, 
and  all  llieir  utensils  were  pnckfi  upon  them, 
ind  in  a  few  hours  the  whole  body  moved  in  a 
luirilieastcrly  direciiuii  towards  the  upper  fork 
of  ttie  river  Konzas. 

While  they  were  departing,  the  Delaware 
council  was 'summoned  by  a  crier;  Reginald 
and  Baptisie  were  also  ■  iviied  to  at'».nd,  the 
former  in  couipliinent  to  iiis  station  in  the  tribe 
as  adopted  brother  of  War-Eagle,  the  latter  being 
reco|^ni.>ed  as  r.  warrior  of  tried  courage  and 
experience.  T;  :  chiefs  and  braves  having 
seated  themselves  in  a  semicircle,  the  centre  of 
which  was  occupied  by  Tamenutid,  the  great 
medicine  p'pe  was  first  passed  round  in  silence 
and  with  the  accustomed  solemnities,  after  which 
Tamenund  arose,  and  in  a  voice  feeble  from  age, 
but  distinctly  audible,  proceeded  to  explain  to 
the  assembly  the  affairs  respecting  which  they 
had  met  to  consult.  While  he  was  speaking, 
one  of  the  indians  appointed  to  guard  the  en- 
trance of  the  council-lodge  came  in,  and  an- 
nounced a  messenger  from  the  Osage  encamp- 
ment. Tamenund  paused,  and  desired  the  mes- 
senger to  be  introduced. 

All  eyes  were  bent  .sternly  on  the  envoy,  who 
advanced  with  a  haughty  and  dignified  step  into 
the  centre  of  the  lodge,  where  he  stood  still,  and 
resting  on  a  long  lance  which  he  held  in  his 
right  hand,  awaited,  according  to  Indian  custom, 
a  signal  from  the  council-chief  to  deliver  his  er- 
rand. His  dres»,  and  the  paint  bv  which  his 
body  was  adorned,  had  .jvidentiy  been  prepared 
with  every  attention  to  the  niceties  of  Indian  di- 
plomacy, some  portions  of  it  beinjr  significant 
of  peace  or  alliance,  and  others  of  hostile  prep- 
aration :  his  right  side  w;i  .  painted  red,  with 
streaks  of  black;  on  his  left  arm  he  wore  a 
round  shield  of  buiTalo-hide,  a  quiver  of  arrow.s 
hung  at  his  back,  a  tomahawk  and  knife  were  in 
his  girdle,  and  in  his  left  hand  he  carried  a  large 
string  of  wampum,*  adorned  with  sundry  ribbons 
and  thongs  of  parti-coloured  deerskin. 

*  Waiiipum,  a  corruptiou  of  the  word  "  wampampcaT^ 


The  Delaware.1  recognised  in  the  messenger 
a  yu.'ng  kinsman  <if  Mah^^a,  one  who  had  aU 
ready  Ui.'inguished  lii'ii»ell  by  several  feats  of 
daring  gallantry,  and  lind  been  Iniely  enrolled 
among  the  braves  of  his  nation.  He  had  hith< 
erto  been  upon  the  most  Iriendly  terms  with  the 
Lena|)r,  was  familiar  with  their  langiia^'e,  and 
had  volunteered  on  more  than  one  occasion  to 
Ibllow  War-Eagle  on  the  war-path ;  but  the  lines 
I  paint  and  his  accoutrements  were  now,  an 
.1  ))eforc  been  observed,  so  carefully  selected, 
thai  their  practised  eyes  were  unable  to  decide 
whether  peace  or  war  was  the  object  of  his  mis- 
sion ;  neither  was  any  inlerence  to  be  drawn  from 
his  countenance  or  bearing,  for,  after  the  first 
cold  saluation  on  entering,  he  leaned  on  bis  lanca 
in  an  altitude  of  haughty  indifference.  Under 
these  circuiiisianres  he  was  not  invited  to  sit, 
neither  was  the  pipe  handed  to  him,  but  Tame- 
nund briefly  addressed  him  as  follows; 

"  The  messenger  of  the  Osage  may  speak. 
The  ears  of  the  Lenap6  are  open." 

"  I'lying-arrow,"  replied  the  young  man,  in  a 

■t  and  quiet  lone,  "knows  that  many  win- 

ve  passed  over  the  head  of  the  Lenap6 

le  is  sorry  to  speak  hard  words  to  Tume- 

t  the  young  warrior  speak  freely ;  Tame- 
nuiid  knows  that  lu>  is  the  niouth  of  the  Osage 
council,"  was  the  grave  reply. 

"i'lie  Wasliashee  say  that  the  Lenap6  have 
walked  in  a  crooked  path.  The  council  havo 
assembled,  and  the  words  delivered  to  Flying- 
arrow  are  these.  The  Washashee  allowed  the 
Lenap6  to  kill  meat  on  their  hunting-ground, 
they  smoked  the  pipe  together,  and  gave  each 
other  the  wampum-belt  of  peace ;  hut  the  Lenapu 
hearts  are  white,  though  ineir  skin  is  red;  their 
tongues  are  smooth  with  telling  many  lies :  they 
have  brought  the  pale-f;u:es  here  to  aid  them  in 
driving  the  Was!iash<'  twm  the  hunting-fields 
of  their  fathers!  Is  u  not  true"!"  continued  the 
fearless  envoy .  in  a  louder  strain.  "  They  have 
done  all  they"  can  to  throw  dirt  upon  the  lodges 
of  those  whom  they  call  brothers.  When  Ma- 
hcga otfered  to  take  the  daughter  of  Tamenund 
as  his  wife,  what  was  said  to  him  1  Does  not 
the  pale  race  who  crept  upon  him  and  defiled  his 
medicine,  still  sit  and  smoke  at  the  Lenape  firel 
Mati^ga  says,  let  Tamenund  give  him  Olitipa 
for  a  wife,  and  the  pale-face,  called  Netis,  as  a 
prisoner,  and  let  him  .send  back  the  other  while 
men  to  the  Great  river;  liien  Mahega  will  be- 
lieve that  the  hearts  of  the  Lenap6  are  true  to 
the  friendship  pledged  on  this  belt." 

I'hus  sayiug,  he  shook  the  wampum  before 
the  assembled  Delawares  with  an  air  of  proari 
defiance.  A  brief  pause  followed  this  daring 
speech;  the  heart  of  War- Eagle  boiled  withia 
him,  but  a  scornful  smile  sat  upon  his  haughty 
countenance,  as  he  waited  composedly  for  the 
reply  of  his  father,  who  seemed  engaged  in  deep 
and  seriou?  meditation. 

Reginald  had,  of  course,  been  unable  to  follow 
the  envoy's  discourse,  but  his  quick  ear  had  de- 
lected his  own  name ;  and  a  fiprce  look,  which 
acnompanied  its  pronunriatioii,  told  him  that  he 
was  personally  interested  in  the  object  of  the 
Osage's  m'.'ssiige.  Having  leathered  from  Bap- 
tisie,  in  a  whisper,  the  nature  of  Mahega^s 
charge  and  demand,  a  flush  of  intlignstion  col- 
oured his  brow,  but  the  example .  of  self-com- 


Binnll  shells  struntr  t(>!;<~ther,  and  used  l>y  the  Indiana  for 
txirter  amons:  theinsf  Ives ;  a  belt  of  wam|ium  is  the  omblem 
of  peace,  as  tlie  hatchet,  or  tomahawk,  ia  that  of  war. 


II 

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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


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23  WIST  MAIN  STIHT 

WIISTIR.N.Y.  14SM 

(7l6)l71-4»03 


'':_Mi 


0 

Ms 


K<s^ 


>  ,< 


01^ 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


\H  . 


1 1''   : 


mand  that  he  had  so  lately  seen,  and  that  he  still 
witnessed  in  the  iron  features  by  which  he  was 
surrounded,  taught  him  to  place  a  like  restraint 
upon  his  own  ieelings,  and  to  await  the  reply  of 
the  aged  chief. 

The  latter,  fixing  his  eye  sternly  upon  the  en- 
voy, thus  addressed  him:  " Mahega  has  filled 
the  young  brave's  mouth  with  lies.  The  hearts 
of  the  Lenape  are  true  as  the  guiding-star.*  They 
are  faithful  to  their  friends,  they  tear  no  enemies. 
Taraenund  will  not  give  Olitipa  to  Mahega,  nor 
his  adopted  son  to  be  the  Washashee's  prisoner. 
Tamenund  is  old,  but  he  is  not  blind;  Mahega 
wishes  to  become  a  friend  of  the  Dahcotahs.  it 
is  well;  he  will  find  among  them  hearts  as  bad, 
and  tongues  as  forked  as  his  own!  I  have 
spoken." 

A  deep  murmur  of  approbation  followed  the 
aged  chiefs  brief  but  enerareiic  harangue,  and  as 
soon  as  it  was  concluded',  the  fearless  messen- 
ger drew  a  sharp  knife  from  his  girdle,  and  sev- 
ering the  wampum-belt,  he  cafSt  the  two  halves 
on  the  ground,  saying,  "  It  is  well.  Thus  is  the 
league  between  the  Washashee  and  the  Lenapd 
divided !" 

Baptiste,  to  whom  Reginald  had  again  ad- 
dressed a  few  words  in  a  whisper,  now  rose,  and 
having  requested  permission  of  Tamenund,  said 
to  the  Osage  messenger : "  Netis  desires  you  to  tell 
Mahega  that  he  is  a  liar — brave  enough  to  frighten 
women,  but  nothing  more.  If  he  is  a  warrior, 
let  him  come  to-morrow  at  sunrise  to  the  open 
prairie,  north  of  the  camp;  the  friends  of  both 
shall  stand  back  three  arrowflights  apart ;  Netis 
-will  meet  him  with  a  rifle  and  a  hunting-knife ; 
Olitipa  will  not  be  there  to  save  his  lile  again  I" 
Another  murmur  of  approbation  went  round 
the  assembly,  mahy  of  whom  had  already  heard 
of  the  rough  treatment  that  the  gigantic  Osage 
had  received  at  Reginald's  hands,  but  hearing  it 
now  confirmed  by  the  lips  of  a  tried  warrior,  like 
Qrande-H4che,  they  looked  with  increased  re- 
spect and  esteem  on  the  adopted  brother  of  War- 
Eagle. 

"  Flying-arrow  will  tell  Mahega,"  was  the 
brief  reply ;  and  the  messenger,  glancing  his  eye 
haughtily  around  the  circle,  left  the  lodge  and 
returned  to  the  encampment  of  his  tribe.  After 
bis  departure  the  council  continued  their  delib- 
erations for  some  time,  and  had  not  yet  conclu- 
ded them,  when  a  distant  and  repeated  shouting 
attracted  their  attention,  and  a  Delaware  youth, 
of  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  rushed  into  the 
Ibdge,  breathless,  and  bleeding  from  a  wound 
inflicted  by  an  arrow,  which  had  pierced  his 
shoulder.  A  few  hurried  sentences  explained  to 
the  chiefs  the  news  of  which  he  was  the  bearer. 
It  appeared  that  he  had  been  tending,  in  a  bottom 
no*  far  distant,  a  herd  of  horses,  chiefly  belong- 
ing to  Tamenund,  War-Eagle,  and  the  party  of 
white  men,  when  a  band  of  mounted  Sioux 
came  sweeping  down  the  valley  at  full  speed ; 
two  or  three  young  Delawares,  who  formed  the 
out-picquet  on  that  side,  had  been  taken  com- 
pletely by  surprise,  and  paid  with  their  lives  the 
penalty  of  their  carelessness. 

The  wounded  youth  who  brought  the  intelli- 
gence had  only  escaped  by  his  extreme  swift- 
ness of  foot,  and  by  the  unwillingness  of  the  en- 
emy to  approach  too  near  the  camp.  Thus  had 
the  Dahcotahs  succeeded  in  carrying  off,  by  a 
bold  stroke,  upwards  of  one  hundred  of  the  best 
horses  from  the  Delaware  villagg;  and  Reginald 

*  The  North  at:  r  ia  often  alluded  to  by  the  Indian  ttibea 
under  this  und  other  aimilar  deuominMioni.    u  •  ,••  ,:=»         | 


soon  learned,  to  his  inexpressible  annoyance  and 
regret,  that  N^kimi  was  among  the  number  of 
the  captives.  A  hurried  consultatioq  followed, 
in  which  War-Eagle,  throwing*  oil' the  modest 
reserve  that  he  had  practised  during  the  council, 
assumed  his  place  as  leader  of  the  Lenape 
braves,  of  whom  he  selected  forty  of  the  most 
active  and  daring,  to  accompany  him  on  the  dif- 
ficult and  dangerous  expedition  that  was  to  be 
instantly  undertaken  for  the  recovery  of  the 
stolen  horses. 

Reginald  and  Baptist?  eagerly  volunteered, 
and  were  instantly  accepted  by  War-Eagle ;  but 
it  was  not  without  some  persuasion  on  the  part 
of  the  Guide,  that  the  chief  allowed  Monsieur 
Perrot  tu  be  of  the  party ;  that  faithful  valet  in- 
sisted, however,  so  obstinately  upon  his  right  to 
attend  his  master,  that,  on  Baptiste  enjoining 
that  he  should  implicitly  obey  orders,  he  was 
permitted  to  form  one  of  the  selected  band. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour,  from  the  receipt  of 
the  above  disastrous  intelligence,  the  party  left 
the  camp  well  armed  and  equipped,  each  man 
carrying  three  pounds  of  dried  buffalo  meat;  and 
Baptiste  secured  ivnce  that  quantity  to  bis  stur- 
dy person,  thinking  it  probable  that  Reginald's 
endurance  of  hunger  might  not  prove  propor- 
tionate to  his  active  qualities.  The  latter  had, 
indeed,  forgotten  the  meat  altogether,  for  he 
passed  the  last  lew  minutes  of  his  stay  within 
the  camp,  in  bidding  farewell  to  "  Prairie-bird," 
and  in  assuring  her  that  he  would  not  be  long 
absent,  but  trusted  soon  to  return  with  his  fa- 
vourite Nekimi.  At  his  departure,  Reginald 
left  the  strictest  orders  with  Bearskin  (who  re- 
mained in  charge  of  his  party)  to  keep  a  faithful 
watch  over  the  safety  of  Prairie-bird,  and  to  fol- 
low the  injunctions  that  he  might  receive  from 
Tamenund  and  Paul  Mtiller. 

The  small  band  who,  at  the  instigation  of  Ma- 
hega, had  stolen  the  Delaware  horses,  were 
chosen  warriors,  well-mounted,  thorot'ghly  train- 
ed to  the  predatory  warfare  in  which  ;hey  were 
now  engaged,  and  ready,  either  to  defend  their 
prize  against  an  equal  force,  or  to  bafile  the  pur- 
suit of  a  superior  one.  As  War-Eagle  had  lost 
many  of  his  best  horses,  he  resolved  to  follow  the 
enemy's  trail  on  foot,  but  he  desired  two  or 
three  of  his  most  active  and  enterprising  follow- 
ers, whose  horses  bad  not  been  stolen,  to  hover 
on  the  rear  of  the  retreating  partj^,  to  watch  their 
mo\  ements,  and  bring  back  any  intelligence  that 
might  aid  him  in  the  pursuit. 

The  select  band  of  Delawarea  moved  swiftly 
forward  under  the  guidance  of  their  young  lead- 
er; close  upon  his  steps  followed  Reginald,  burn- 
ing with  impatience  to  recover  his  favourite 
steed ;  next  to  him  came  Baptiste,  then  Perrot, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  Lenape  warriors. 

The  prairiC'grass,  trodden  down  by  the  hoofs 
of  the  galloping  and  affrighted  steeds  driven 
from  their  pasture,  afforded  a  trail  that  could  be 
traced  without  diflicnlty,  and  the  trampled  banks 
of  several  slow  and  lazy  streams,  which  they 
passed  in  their  course,  marked  the  headlong 
course  taken  by  their  fugitive  steeds  and  their 
fierce  drivers. 

We  will  leave  the  pursuers  for  a  time,  and 
follow  the  movements  of  Mah6ga,  who  was  now 
acting  in  concert  with  the  Sioux,  and  who  con- 
trived by  hfs  superior  address  to  direct  their 
plans,  as  completely  as  if  he  had  been  himself 
the  chief  of  their  tribe.  Having  accompanied 
the  Osage  village,  fourteen  of  fifteen  miles  on 
their  route  to  the  aorihward,  he  ordered  a  halt 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


91 


DDoyanreand 
le  number  of 
liot)  fullowed, 
H'  the  modest 
ig  the  council, 
the  Lenape 
y  of  the  most 
im  on  the  dil- 
tiat  was  to  be 
lovery  of  the 

r  volunteered, 
ar-Eagle;  but 
tn  on  the  part 
red  Monsieur 
thful  valet  in- 
)n  his  right  to 
iste  enjoining 
rders,  iie  was 
ed  band, 
the  receipt  of 
the  party  left 
led,  each  man 
alomeat;  and 
ity  to  bis  stur- 
lat  Reginald's 
prove  pn)por- 
he  latter  had, 
;ether,  for  he 
is  stay  within 
Prairie-bird," 
d  not  be  long 
1  with  his  fa- 
ire,  Reginald 
■skin  (who  re- 
seep  a  faithful 
ird,  and  to  fol- 
i  receive  from 

gation  of  Ma- 
horses,  were 
irorghly  train- 
ich  :hey  were 
>  defend  their 
baffle  the  pur- 
Sagle  had  lost 
d  to  follow  the 
tsired  two  or 
)rising  foliow- 
olen,  to  hover 
to  watch  their 
telligenca  that 

noved  swiAly 
r  young  lead- 
pginald,  bam- 
his  favourite 
,  then  Perrot, 
rarriors. 
by  the  hoofs 
steeds  driven 
that  could  be 
impled  banks 
5,  which  they 
the  headlong 
Bds  and  their 

«  time,  and 
who  was  now 
and  who  con- 
)  direct  their 
been  himself 
accompanied 
jeen  miles  on 
rdered  a  halt 


oy  the  side  of  a  stream,  in  a  valley  adjacent  to 
the  encampment  of  their  new  allies,  the  two 
bands  funning  a  bodv  so  superior  in  number  to 
the  Delawares,  that  they  had  no  cause  to  iiear  an 
attack,  especially  as  they  learned  from  their 
scouts  that  War-Eagle  and  bis  followers  had 
gone  in  an  opposite  direction  in  pursuit  of  the 
horse-stealing  party. 

The  evening  was  dark,  and  favoured  the  exe- 
cution of  a  plot  which  Mahega  had  formed,  and 
in  furtherance  of  which  all  his  preceding  meas- 
ures had  been  taken.  As  soon  as  the  sun  had 
set,  he  selected  one  hundred  of  the  bravest  and 
most  ezperlenoed  warriors  in  his  tribe,  whom  he 
armed  only  with  bow  and  arrows,  knife,  and 
tomahawk ;  strictly  forbidding  the  use  of  any 
firearms;  for  he  well  knew  that  the  latter  were 
far  from  being  effective  weapons  in  the  hands 
of  his  followers,  esjiecially  in  such  an  expedition 
as  that  in  which  he  was  engaged.  Swiftly  and 
silently  they  moved  under  their  leader's  gui- 
:laiice,  who,  directing  his  course  towards  the 
southeast,  brought  them,  after  a  few  hours' 
march,  to  the  line  of  wood  skirting  the  great 
Praiiie.  Aware  that  the  warriors  remaining  in 
the  Delaware  encampment  would  be  prepared 
against  any  surprise  from  the  quarter  in  which 
the  Sioux  were  posted,  his  present  object  was  to 
make  his  attack  from,  the  opposite  side,  in  order 
to  effect  which,  undiscovered,  the  greatest  skill 
and  rapidity  were  necessary. 

It  was  on  occasions  such  as  these  that  the 
qualities  of  the  Osage  chief  were  most  conspic- 
Tiously  exhibited :  with  light  and  noiseless  step, 
he  led  bis  party  through  the  depths  of  the  forest, 
and  during  a  swift  march  of  many  hours  not  a 
word  was  spoken ;  now  and  then  he  paused  as  a 
startled  deer  rustled  through  the  thicket,  and  once 
«r  twice,  when  a  stray  moonbeam,  forcing  its 
way  through  the  foliage,  silvered  the  bark  of  the 
sycamore,ne  cast  his  eye  upwards,  as  if  to  learn 
from  the  leaves  the  direction  of  the  wind,  or  to 
scan  the  heaven  in  search  of  one  of  those  stars, 
which  the  imperfect,  but  sagacious  astronomy  of 
the  Indians  teaches  them  to  recognise  as  guides. 

Leave  we  them  to  pursue  their  dark  and  cir- 
cuitous path,  and  let  us  transport  the  reader  to 
the  interior  of  the  Delaware  encampment,  where 
(as  it  may  be  remembered)  Bearskin  was  ]e{t  ip 
command  of  that  portion  of  the  white  men  who 
had  not  accompanied  their  leader  in  pursuit  of 
the  Sioux. 

Paul  Miiller  sat  late  at  night  in  the  tent  of  the 
Prairie-bird;  on  the  rude  table  lav  the  Bible 
from  which  be  had  been  reading,  and  explaining 
some  difficulties  that  had  perpfexed  her  strong, 
yet  inqoiriog  mind ;  afterwanls  they  had  tum«l 
the  conversation  to  the  scenes  which  had  occur- 
red within  the  last  few  days,  and  which  were 
calculated  to  inspire  serious  anticipations  of 
coming  evil.  Prairie-bird  made  no  effort  to  con- 
ceal from  her  affectionate  instructor  how  entire- 
ly her  heart  was  given  to  ReginaU;  she  knew 
his  bold  and  fearless  disposition ;  she  knew,  loo, 
the  wilv  cunning  of  the  powerful  tribe  against 
whom  his  expedition  was  undertaken,  and  more 
than  one  heavy  sigh  escaped  her  when  she 
thought  of  the  risks  that  he  must  incur. 

The  good  Missionary  employed  every  possible 
argument  to  allay  her  fears,  but  none  so  effect- 
ively as  that  which  referred  to  the  protection  of 
that  Being  who  had  been  from  childhood  her 
hope,  her  trust,  and  her  shield,  and,  bidding  her 
good  night,  he  bad  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her 
agitated  spirit  resume  its  usual  composure.    He 


then  wrapped  his  cloak  round  bis  shoulders,  and 
went  out  to  see  what  provision  Beai^kin  had 
made  (or  the  security  of  the  camp,  during  the 
absence  of  Reginald,  War- Eagle,  aua  iheir  par- 
ty. The  rough  old  boatman  was  stiiuking  his 
pipe  over  the  embers  of  a  fire  in  i'ront  uf  the 
lodge  where  he  slept;  beside  him  lay,  half-asleep, 
the  gigantic  Mike  Smith;  and  the  other  white 
men  were  within  the  lodge,  each  having  his  rifle 
within  reach  and  his  knife  and  pistols  in  his  belt. 
Bearskin  returned  the  greeting  of  the  Mission- 
ary with  blunt  rivility,  and  informed  him  that 
he  had  been  to  the  lodge  of  Tamenund,  where  it 
had  been  agreed  to  throw  forward  an  outpost  of 
a  dozen  light,  active  young  Indians,  half  a  mile 
beyond  the  camp,  in  the  direction  of  the  Sioux ; 
runners  had  also  been  sent  round  to  desire  the 
warriors  to  be  ready,  and  all  the  usual  precau- 
tions taken,  such  as  are  observed  by  Indians  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  a  dangerous  enemy. 

Satisfied  with  these  arrangements,  Paul  Miil- 
ler returned  to  his  tent,  an4  throwing  himself  on 
the  pile  of  buffalo  skins  that  formed  his  bed,  was 
soon  fast  asleep.  He  knew  not  bow  long  he  had 
slept,  when  he  wa^roused  by  a  cry  such  as  none 
who  has  once  heard  it  can  mistake  or  forget. 
Scarcely  had  that  shrill  and  savage  whoop  pier- 
ced the  dull  silence  of  the  night,  when  every  crea- 
ture within  the  encampment  sprang  to  their  feet ; 
the  braves  and  warriors,  seizing  their  weapons, 
rushed  to  the  quarter  whence  the  cry  proceeded, 
while  the  women  and  children,  crowding  round 
the  aged  and  defenceless  men,  waited  in  suspense 
the  result  of  the  sudden  and  fierce  attack.  The 
noise  and  the  tumult  came  from  the  northern 
quarter,  that  most  remote  from  the  lodges  of  Tam- 
enund and  Prairie-bird.  Sixty  of  the  chosen 
Osagcl  warriors  had  fallen  upon  the  small  outpost 
placed  to  give  the  alarm,  and,  driving  them  easi- 
ly before  them  and  killing  some,  entered  the 
camp  almost  simultaneously  with  the  survivors. 
This  band  was  led  bv  that  daring  young  war- 
rior before  introduced  to  the  reader  under  the 
name  of  Flving- Arrow,  who  now  burned  with  de- 
sire to  render  bis  name  in  the  war-annals  of  his 
tribe  famous  as  that  of  his  kinsman  Mahega. 
Nor  were  the  Delaware  warriors  slow  to  meet 
the  invaders,  with  a  courage  equal  to  their  own ; 
the  conflict  was  fierce  and  confused,  for  the  mooa 
was  no  longer  up,  and  the  pale  stars  were  con- 
tending, in  a  cloudy  sky,  with  the  dim  grey  hue 
that  precedes  the  dawn  of  day,  so  that  the  dusky 
figures  of  the  combatants  were  scarcely  visible, 
and  by  their  voices  alone  could  they  distinguish 
friends  from  foes. 

At  the  first  alarm,  Bearskin,  with  his  habitual 
coolness,  ordered  Mike  Smith,  with  three  nf  his 
men,  to  retire  into  the  rear,  to  assist  in  prc.ecting 
the  lodge  of  Tamenund  and  the  tent  of  Prairie- 
bird,  while  he  led  the  remainder. to  check  the 
advance  of  the  Osages  from  the  northward.  For 
some  time  the  latter  seemed  to  be  gaining  ground, 
but  the  Delawares,  still  superior  in  number  ana 
hastening  to  the  spot,  aided  by  Bearskin  and  his  < 
followers,  recovered  their  lost  advantage,  and 
the  combat  raged  with  renewed  fury. 

At  this  crisis  Mah^a,  who  had  succeeded  ia 
gaining,  unperceived,  the  valley  to  the  south-  . 
ward  of  the  Delaware  camp,  fell  upon  their  rear 
with  his  reserve  of  forty  men  ;  overthrowing  %U 
who  opposed  him,  he  forced  his  way  towards  the 
white  tent,  which  the  advancing  light  of  dawn 
rendered  now  easily  distinguishable  from  the 
dark-coloured  lodges  around  it ;  shouting  his  bat- 
tle-cry with  a  voice  like  a  trumpet,  he  rushed 


i!li 


¥ 


90 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


onward,  caring  not,  apparently,  fur  the  scalps 
or  trophies,  but  determined  on  securing  the 
jjrize  tor  which  he  had  already  brolcen  his  faith, 
and  imbrued  his  hands  in  the  blood  of  allies  who 
had  done  him  no  injurv.  A  gallant  band  of 
Delawares  surrounded  their  aged  chief,  whose 
trembling  hand  now  grasped  a  tomahawk  that 
had  for  twenty  years  reposed  idly  in  his  belt. 
Prairie-bird  had  sprung  from  iier  couch,  and  al- 
ready joined  in  the  brief,  but  earnest  prayer, 
which  Paul  Muller  breathed  at  her  side;  he 
recognised  the  Osage  war-cry,  and  divining  the 
chief  object  of  their  terrible  leader,  he  whispered 
wlemnly  to  her, 

"  My  dear  child,  if  I  am  soon  taken  from  you. 
Keen,  nevertheless,  your  trust  in  Ood.  I  see  that 
knife  still  in  your  girdle;  I  know  what  you  have 
once  dared;  if  it  be  the  will  of  Heaven,  you 
must  be  prepared  patiently  to  endure  pain,  sor- 
row, condnement,  or  oppression ;  remember,  it  is 
only  as  the  last  resource  against  dishonour,  that 
you  may  have  recourse  to  it." 

The  maiden  replied  not,  but  a  glance  from  her 
dark  eye  assured  him  that  he  was  understood, 
and  would  be  obeyed ;  many  ^notions  contend- 
ed in  her  bosom,  but,  for  the  moment,  reverence 
and  attachment  to  her  affectionate  instructor 
prevailed  over  all  others,  and,  dropping  on  her 
knees  before  him,  she  covered  his  hand  with 
Idsses,  saying, 

"  Dear  Father,  if  we  must  be  separated,  bless, 
bless  your  grateful  child." 

The  worthy  Missionary,  albeit  accustomed  to 
resign  himself  entirely  to  the  will  of  Heaven, 
could  sca.'cely  command  himself  sufficiently  to 
utter  aloud  the  blessi'<g  that  he  implored  upon 
her  head;  but  the  sLcms  and  cries  of  the  com- 
batants were  every  moment  approaching  nearer, 
and  seizing  his  staff,  he  went  to  the  aperture  in 
front  of  the  lodge,  in  order  to  ascertain  how  the 
tide  of  conflict  was  turning. 

The  first  object  that  met  his  view  was  the 
aged  Tamenund,  who  had  fallen  in  his  hurried 
endeavour  to  rush  to  the  combat,  but  was  now 
partly  supported  and  partly  detained  by  his  wail- 
ing wives  and  daughters,  while  the  tomahawk 
that  had  dropped  from  his  nerveless  arm  lay 
upon  the  ground  beside  him;  as  soon  as  he  saw 
Paul  Muller,  he  called  him,  and  said,  in  a  low 
voice, 

"The  breath  of  Tamenund  is  going:  he  has 
lived  long  enough ;  the  voices  of  his  fathers  are 
calling  to  him  from  the  far  hunting-fields;  he 
will  go,  and  pray  the  Oreat  Spirit  to  give  the 
scalps  of  these  snake-tongued  Washashe  to  the 
knife  of  War-Eagle."  After  a  moment's  pause, 
the  old  man  continued :  "  I  know  that  the  heart 
of  the  Black  Father  is  good  to  the  Lenap6;  he 
has  been  a  friend  of  many  days  to  the  lodge  of 
Tamenund;  he  must  be  a  father  to  Olitipa; 
she  is  a  sweet-scented  flower;  the  Great  Spirit 
has  given  rain  and  sunshine  to  nourish  its  growth, 
and  its  roots  are  deep  in  Tamenund's  heart ;  the 
Black  Father  will  not  allow  it  to  be  trodden  un- 
der the  feet  of  Mah6ga."  While  saying  these 
words  he  drew  fVom  under  his  blanket  a  small 
eathem  bag,  the  neck  of  which  was  carefully 
closed  with  ligaments  of  deer-sinew  that  had 
been  dipped  in  wax,  or  some  similarly  adhesive 
substance.  "  This,"  he  added,  "  is  the  medicine- 
bag  of  Olitipa ;  the  Black  Father  must  keep  it 
when  Tamenund  is  gone,  and,  while  it  is  safe, 
the  steps  of  the  Bad  Spirit  will  not  draw  near 
ner." 

The  Missionary  took  the  bag,  and  concealed 


it  immediately  under  his  vest,  but,  before  he  had 
time  to  reply  to  his  aged  friend,  a  terrific  cry  an- 
nounced that  the  Osages  had  succeeded  in  break- 
ing through  the  Delaware  ranks,  and  a  ffarf\il 
scene  o'  confusion,  plunder,  and  massacre  en- 
sued; ^le  faithful  Missionary  hastened  to  the 
side  of  his  trembling  pupil,  resolved  to  die  in 
defending  her  from  injury,  while  the  air  wa:  rent 
bv  the  shouts  of  the  victors,  and  the  yells  and 
shrieks  of  those  suffering  under  their  relentless 
funr. 

Mike  Smith  and  his  men  plied  their  weapons 
with  determined  courage  and  resolution,  and 
several  of  the  Osages  paid  with  their  lives  the 
forfeit  of  their  daring  attack ;  still  the  survivors 
pressed  forwaru,  bearing  back  the  white  men  by 
force  of  numbers,  and  allowing  not  a  moment 
for  the  reloading  of  the  fire-arms.  The  voice  of 
Mah^ga  rose  high  above  the  surrounding  din, 
and  all  seemed  to  shrink  from  the  terrible  weap- 
on which  he  wielded  as  if  it  had  been  a  light 
cane  or  small-sword ;  it  was  a  short  bludgeon, 
headed  with  a  solid  ball  of  iron,  from  which  pro- 
truded several  sharp  iron  spikes,  already  red  witli 
human  blood.  Mike  Smith  came  boldly  forward 
to  meet  him,  holding  in  his  lefl  hand  a  dischar- 
ged horse-pistol,  and  in  his  right  a  heavy  cutlass, 
with  which  last  be  made  a  furious  cut  at  the  ad- 
vancing Osage.  The  wary  .chief  neither  receiv- 
ed nor  parried  it,  but,  springing  lightly  aside, 
seized  the  same  moment  lor  driving  his  heavy 
mace  fi'd  on  the  unguarded  forehead  of  his  op- 
ponent, and  the  unfortunate  woodsman  dropped 
like  an  ox  felled  at  the  shambles ;  the  fierce  In- 
dian, leaping  forward,  passed  his  knife  twice 
through  the  prostrate  bixiy,  and  tearing  off  the 
scalp,  wavedi  the  bloody  trouhy  over  his  head. 

Disheartened  by  the  fall  of  their  brave  and 
powerful  companion,  the  remaining  white  men 
offered  but  a  feeble  resistance,  and  the  Osage 
chief  rushed  onwards  to  the  spot  where  only 
some  wounded  Delawares  and  a  few  devoted 
and  half-armed  youths  were  gathered  around 
the  aged  Tamenund,  determined  to  die  at  hi» 
side.  It  is  not  necessary  to  pursue  the  sicken- 
ingdetails  of  the  narrative. 

The  old  man  received  his  death-blow  with  a 
composed  dignity  worthy  of  his  race,  and  his 
faithful  followers  met  their  fate  wiih  equal  hero- 
ism, neither  expecting  nor  receiving  mercv. 

The  victory  was  now  complei"  "va  both 
the  scattered  Delawares  and  the  rer  g  white 
men  fled  for  shelter  and  safety  u  learest 

points  in  the  dense  line  of  forest;  ..,  if  any^ 
would  have  reached  it  had  not  the  war-pipe  of 
Mahiga  called  his  warriors  arouad  him.  None 
dared  to  disobey  the  f^ltfrat,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
they  stood  before  him  hi  front  of  the  tent  within 
which  the  faithful  Missionary  still  cheered  and 
supported  his  belovc.i  pupil.  The  fierce  Osage, 
countinj^  over  his  followers,  found  that  fifteen 
were  killed  or  mortally  wounded ;  but  the  loss 
on  the  part  of  '.h^ir  opponents  was  much  heavier, 
without  reckcning  upwards  of  a  score  of  prison- 
ers, whose  hands  and  legs  were  tightly  fastened 
with  bands  of  withy  and  elm-bark. 

Mah^a,  putting  his  head  into  the  aperture  of 
the  tent,  ordered  Paul  Miiller  to  come  forth. 

"Resistance  is  unavailing,"  whispered  the 
Missionary  to  the  weeping  girl;  "it  will  be 
harder  with  thee  if  I  obey  not  this  cruel  man. 
Practice  now,  dear  child,  the  lessons  4bat  we 
have  so  often  read  together,  and  leave  the  issue 
to  Him  who  has  promised  never  to  liave  nor 
forsake  these  who  trust  in  him." 


.r^--- 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


83 


before  he  had 
errific  cry  an- 
!ded  in  break- 
ind  a  fearflil 
nassacre  en- 
itened  to  the 
red  to  die  in 
3  air  wa:  rent 
the  yells  and 
leir  relentless 

^eir  weapons 
iolution,  and 
leir  lives  the 
the  survivors 
white  men  by 
ot  a  moment 
The  voice  of 
ounding  din, 
errible  weap- 
been  a  light 
)rt  bludgeon, 
m  which  pro- 
;ady  red  with, 
sldly  forward 
id  a  dischar- 
eavy  cutlass, 
;ut  at  the  ad- 
sither  receiv- 
iightly  aside, 
ig  his  heavy 
ad  of  his  op- 
nan  dropped 
the  fierce  In- 

knife  twice 
aring  off  the 
!r  his  head. 
ir  brave  and 
S  white  men 
i  the  Osage 

where  only- 
few  devoted 
ered  around 

I  die  at  hi» 

the  sicken- 

blow  with  a 
^ce,  and  his 

equal  hero- 

mercv. 

•    "M  both 

gwhite 

learest 

.,if  any, 

war-pipe  of 

him.   None 

few  minuter 

I  tent  withia 

cheered  and 

erce  Osage, 

that  fifteea 
but  the  loss 
ich  heavier, 
re  of  prison- 
itly  fastened 

aperture  of 
le  forth, 
ispered  the 
"it  will  be 

cruel  man. 
>ns  that  we 
ve  the  issue 
0  l<?ave  nor 


So  saying,  he  kissed  her  forehead,  and  gently 
disengagins  himself  from  the  hand  that  still 
i7lung  to  his  garment,  he  went  forth  from  the 
tent,  and  stood  before  Mah^ga. 

That  wily  chief  was  well  aware  that  both  the 
Missionary  and  his  fair  pupil  had  many  warm 
friends  among  his  own  tribe;  there  was,  in  fact, 
scarcely  a  family  among  them  that  had  not  ex- 
perienced from  one  or  both  some  act  of  charity 
or  kindness ;  he  had  resolved,  therefore,  to  treat 
them  without  severity,  and,  while  he  a.ssured 
himself  of  the  person  of  Olitipa,  to  send  her  in- 
structor to  some  distant  spot,  where  neither  his 
advice  nor  his  reproofs  were  to  be  leared.  With 
this  determination  he  addressed  him  briefly,  as 
follows: 

"  The  Black  Father  will  travel  with  my  young 
men  towards  the  east ;  he  is  no  lo  i^r  wanted 
here;  he  may  seek  the  lodges  of  the  Lenape 
squaws  beyond  the  Great  River;  he  may  ad- 
vise them  to  remain  where  they  are.  to  dig  and 
frow  com,  and  not  to  come  near  tiie  hunting- 
elds  of  the  Washashe.  My  young  men  will 
travel  three  days  with  him ;  they  may  meet 
strangers;  if  he  is  silent,  his  life  is  safe;  if  he 
speaks,  their  tomahawk  drinks  his  blood ;  when 
they  have  left  him,  his  tongue  and  his  leet  are 
free.    I  have  spoken." 

Mahega  added  a  few  words  in  a  lower  tone 
to  the  young  warrior  who  was  to  execute  his 
orders,  and  who,  with  two  others,  now  stood  by 
his  prisoner;  there  was  a  lowering  frown  on  the 
brow  of  the  chief,  and  a  deep  meaning  in  his 
tone,  showing  plainly  that  t(iere  would  be  dan- 
ger in  disobeying  the  letter  of  those  commands. 

Paul  Miiller,  advancing  a  few  steps,  address- 
«d  the  chief  in  the  Delaware  tongue,  with  which 
he  knew  him  to  be  familiar.  "Mah6ga  is  a 
great  chief,  and  the  Black  Father  is  weak,  and 
must  obey  him ;  before  he  goes  he  will  speak 
some  words  which  the  chief  must  lock  up  in  his 
h«art.  He  loves  Olitipa;  he  wishes  to  make 
her  his  wife ;  it  may  be,  after  a  season,  that  she 
may  look  kindly  upon  him;  but  she  is  not  like 
other  maidens:  she  is  under  the  care  of  the 
Oreat  Spirit.  Mahega  is  strong,  but  her  medi- 
cine is  stronger.  She  can  hide  the  moon  behind 
a  cloud,  and  gather  the  fire  of  the  sun  as  the 
daughters  of  the  Washashe  gather  the  river- 
waters  in  a  vessel ;  let  the  chief  remember  the 
Black  Father's  last  words.  If  Mahdga  protects 
Olitipa  and  what  belongs  to  her  in  the  tent,  it 
may  be  better  for  him  when  the  Great  Spirit  is 
angry ;  if  he  offers  her  harm  or  insult,  he  will 
die  like  a  dog,  and  wolves  will  pick  his  bones." 

The  Missionary  delivered  this  warning  with 
a  dignity  and  solemnity  so  earnest,  that  the  eye 
of  the  fierce  but  superstitious  savage  quailed 
before  him;  and,  pleased  to  mark  the  effect  of 
his  words,  Paul  Miiller  turned  and  left  the  spot, 
muttering,  in  his  own  tongue,  to  himself,  "  God 
will  doubtless  forgive  my  endeavour  to  protect, 
through  this  artifice,  a  forlorn  and  friendless 
maiden,  left  in  the  hands  of  a  man  so  cruel  and 
unscrupulous." 

.  In  a  few  minutes  the  good  Missionary  had 
completed  the  slight  preparation  requisite  for 
his  journey,  and,  accompanied  by  his  Indian 
escort,  left  tne  ruined  and  despoiled  village  with 
JSL  heavy  heart. 

As  soon  as  Mah^a  was  somewhat  recovered 
from  the  startling  effect  of  Paul  Mailer's  parting 
address,  be  made  his  dispositions  for  the  further 
movements  of  his  band  with  his  usual  rapidity 
and  decision ;  he  was  well  aware  that  his  posi- 


tion was  now  one  of  great  peril,  that  in  a  short 
time  War-Eagle  and  his  party  would  be  inform- 
ed of  all  that  had  passed,  and  would  seek  a 
bloody  revenge ;  he  knew  also  that  some  of  the 
fugitive  Whites  or  Delawares  might  speedily 
arm  a  body  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  frontier 
against  him,  and  that  he  would  be  altogether 
unable  to  maintain  himself  in  the  region  that  he 
now  occupied. 

Under  these  circumstances  he  made  up  his 
own  mind  as  to  the  course  that  he  would  pur- 
sue; and  having  first  given  all  the  necessary 
orders  for  the  burial  of  the  Osage  dead  and  the 
care  of  the  wounded,  as  well  as  for  the  security 
of  the  prisoners,  he  called  together  the  heads  of 
his  party,  and,  having  laid  before  them  his  plans, 
asked  their  advice,  with  a  tone  and  manner 
probably  resembling  that  with  which,  a  few 
years- later,  Napoleon  was  in  the  habit  of  asking 
the  counsel  of  his  generals  and  captains:  a  tone 
indicating  that  his  course  being  already  deter- 
mined, nothing  was  exoected  of  them  but  com- 
pliance. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Wsr-Eagle  and  Beglnald,  with  their  Party,  pursue  the 
Dttbeotaht. 

We  left  Reginald,  and  War-Eagle's  party,  in 
pursuit  of  the  marauding  band  of  Sioux  horse- 
stealers. They  continued  their  toilsome  march 
with  unabated  speed  until  nightfall,  when  the 
trail  was  no  longer  distinguishable:  they  then 
halted,  and  while  they  ate  a  scanty  supper,  the 
mounted  Delawares,  who  had  been  sent  forward, 
returned,  bringing  with  them  two  wearied  horses 
which  had  escaped,  in  the  hurried  flight,  from 
their  captors. 

War-Eagle,  summoning  Baptiste  to  his  side, 
questioned  the  young  man  closely  as  to  the  ap- 
pearance and  direction  of  the  trail.  From  their 
answers  he  learnt  that  its  course  was  north- 
ward, but  that  it  bore  gradually  towards  the 
east,  especially  after  a  brief  halt,  which  the 
Sioux  had  made  for  refreshments ;  a  gleam  shot 
athwart  the  dusky  features  of  the  young  chief 
at  this  intelligence,  but  he  made  no  observation, 
and  contented  himself  with  asking  the  opinion 
of  his  more  experienced  companion. 

The  Guide,  taking  off  his  hunting-cap,  allowed 
the  evening  breeze  to  play  through  the  grisly 
hairs  which  were  scattered,  not  too  plentifully, 
on  his  weather-beaten  forehead,  as  if  his  reflec- 
tive powers  might  thence  derive  refreshment ; 
but,  apparciitly,  the  expedient  was  not,  at  least, 
on  this  occasion,  rewarded  with  success,  for, 
after  meditating  in  silence  for  a  few  seconds,  he 
shook  his  head  and  owned  that  he  saw  no  clue 
to  the  intentions  of  the  party  whom  they  were 
pursuing.  The  young  chief  had  his  eye  still 
bent  upon  the  ground,  seemingly  employed  in 
observing  a  large  rent,  which  the  day's  march 
had  made  in  his  mocassin;  but  the  woods- 
man read  in  the  lines  of  his  intelligent  counte- 
nance that  the  mind  was  busily  engaged  in  fol- 
lowing a  connected  train  of  thought. 

After  allowing  a  few  minutes  to  pass  in  si- 
lence, the  Guide,  addressing  his  companion, 
said,  "  Can  War-Eagle  see  the  Dahcotah  path  1 
It  is  hid  from  the  eyes  of  Grand-H&che." 

**  The  night  is  dark,  and  the  eyes  cannot  see 
the  trail ;  but  the  wolf  finds  his  way  to  the 


7'im 


I 


01 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD, 


'i 


i 


rt  ' 


wounded  biaon,  and  the  blue  dove  keeps  her 
course  to  her  nest  in  the  mountain.  The  Great 
Spirit  has  not  made  the  Lenape  warrior  more 
ignorant  than  the  bird,  or  the  hruie  ;  War-Eagle 
known  the  path  of  the  Dahcotah  dogs."  He 
then  bent  down  towards  the  ear  of  Baptiste,  and 
whispered  to  him  long  and  earnestly  in  the  Dela- 
ware tongue. 

"  Capote-blue !  but  the  boy  is  right,"  exclaim- 
ed the  Guide,  in  his  own  mixed  dialect;  "the 
dogs  have  only  taken  this  northern  start  to  mis- 
lead us ;  they  are  not  making  for  the  Missouri 
river,  but  intend  to  double  back  and  join  their 
village,  now  lying  to  the  eastward  of  us.  The 
boy  is  right ;  my  brain  must  be  getting  as  worn- 
out  as  my  hunting  shirt,  or  I  should  have  under- 
stood their  drift.  I  see  bis  plan  is  to  lie  in  cash* 
for  theni  on  their  return.  Well,  if  he  can  make 
sure  of  his  game,  I  will  say  that  he's  fit  to  be  a 
war-chief,  for  these  ^oux  have  a  long  start,  and 
(he  village  must  be  many  miles  to  the  right." 

As  he  made  these  reflections  half  aloud,  Regi- 
nald caught  their  general  bearing ;  and  though 
he  had  great  confidence  in  the  sagacity  of  his 
Indian  friends,  still  he  felt  a  chill  of  disappoint- 
ment at  the  idea  that  the  pursuit  was  to  be 
abandoned,  for  what  appeared  to  him  the  hope- 
less chance  of  intercepting  a  small  band  of 
Sioux  of  whose  course  they  were  ignorant,  in  a 
boundless  extent  of  prairie  like  that  around  him. 
He  had,  however,  good  sense  enough  to  conceal 
all  traces  of  his  disappointment,  knowing  that 
on  such  an  expedition  there  can  be  but  one 
leader,  and  that,  without  unanimity  and  disci- 
pline, failure  must  ensue. 

War-Eagle  now  called  one  of  the  young 
Lenape  warriors  to  his  side,  and  gave  him  brief 
instructions  to  the  effect,  that  he  was  to  choose 
three  others  of  the  best  runners  of  the  party, 
and  accompanied  by  the  mounted  Indians,  to 
start  with  the  earliest  dawn  on  the  Dahcotah 
trail,  which  they  were  to  follow  as  close  as  pos- 
sible without  discovering  themselves.  He  then 
desired  Reginald  and  Baptiste  to  divide  the 
band  into  watches,  and  to  sleep  alternately,  but 
not  to  move  until  he  returned. 

Having  given  these  few  directions,  without 
allowing  himself  either  food  or  rest  atler  a  march 
of  so  many  hours,  he  drew  his  belt  tighter 
around  his  loins,  and  started  on  his  solitary  ex- 
cursion. Reginald  watched  the  retreating  figure 
of  his  friend  until  it  was  lost  in  the  deepening 
gloom,  and  turning  to  the  Guide  he  said, 

■■  Baptiste,  I  cannot  but  envy  War- Eagle  the 
possession  of  sinews  that  seem  unconscious  of 
fatigue,  and  eyes  that  require  no  slumber !  We 
have  marched  from  daylight  until  this  late  hour 
without  either  rest  or  refreshment,  and  I  confess 
I  am  very  ((lad  of  this  seat  on  my  bufialo-robe. 
and  this  slice  of  dried  venison,  with  a  draught 
of  water  j  War-Eagle,  however,  walks  ofTinto  the 
prairie,  as  if  he  had  just  started  fresh  from  re- 
o'lne,  and  Heaven  only  knows  where,  or  for 
wnat  purpose  he  is  going." 

"Master  Reginald,"  replied  the  Guide,  throw- 
ing himself  lazily  down  by  the  side  of  his  young 
leader;  "I  will  not  deny  that  War- Eagle's 
sinews  are  strung  like  the  how  of  a  Pawnee, 
for  I  have  been  on  a  trail  with  him  before,  and 


*  An  expression  used  by  the  Cnnnrtian  hunters  for  an 
ambush;  the  "cnelie"  is  also  runilllnr  to  nil  renders  of 
vreateni  story,  as  the  place  of  deposit  fur  peltries,  or  stores. 


few  could  follow  it  so  long  or  so  true ;  but  there 
has  been  a  time,"  he  added,  casting  his  eyes 
down  on  his  worn  and  soiled  leggins,  "when 
these  limbs  of  mine  would  have  kept  me  for  a 
week  at  the  heels  of  the  fleetest  Dahcotah  that 
ever  crossed  the  country  of  the  Sione-eaters.*^ 
Those  days  are  gone,  but  when  the  game's  afoot, 
perhaps  there  may  be  younger  men  who  might 
give  out  before  old  Baptiste,  yet." 

As  he  spoke  the  eye  of  the  Guide  rested  with 
a  comic  grin  on  Monsieur  Perrot,  who,  with  a 
countenance  somewhat  rueful,  was  endeavour- 
ing to  masticate  a  crude  pomme  de  prairiet  thai, 
one  of  the  Delawares  had  given  to  him,  with 
the  assurance  that  it  was  "  very  good  !" 

"I  believe  you,  Baptiste,"  said  Reginald, 
humouring  the  old  hunter's  pardonable  vanity  ; 
"  I  believe  you,  indeed,  and  if  the  Sioux  offer  us 
a  long  chase,  as  appears  likely,  the  crack  of  your 
rifle  will  be  heard  before  the  foremost  of  our 
party  has  come  to  close  quarters  with  them; 
hut  you  have  not  answered  my  question  rela- 
tive to  War-Eagle's  excursion  during  this  dark 
night." 

"  He  is  gone,"  replied  the  Guide,  "  to  examine 
the  ground  carefully,  perhaps  even  to  approach 
the  northern  border  of  the  Dahcotah  encamp- 
ment ;  he  will  then  judge  of  the  route  by  which 
these  horse-stealing  vagabonds  are  likely  tare- 
turn,  and  will  choose  a  place  for  us  to  conceaL 
ourselves  for  an  attack." 

"  I  understand  it  all,  Baptiste ;  it  seems  to  he 
a  bold,  well  devised  plan,  if  War- Eagle  is  only 
correct  in  his  guess  at  their  intentions ;  mean- 
while let  us  post  our  sentries,  and  get  what 
sleep  we  can,  furto-moirow  may  be  a  busy  day." 

They  accordingly  divided  their  party  into 
watches,  Baptiste  and  Perrot  with  one  Indian 
taking  the  first,  and  Reginald  undertaking  the 
charge  of  the  second.  "The  night  was  gloomy, 
and  few  stars  were  visible  through  the  thick 
clouds  by  which  the  heavens  were  overspread ; 
the  men  were  partially  sheltered  by  some  stunt- 
ed alder-bushes  which  grew  by  the  side  of  the 
stream,  with  whose  waters  they  had  cooled  their 
thirst,  and  those  who  were  not  destined  to  the 
first  watch  soon  liell  asleep,  lulled  by  the  distant 
howling  of  a  hungry  pack  of  prairie  wolves. 

Towards  the  close  of  Reginald's  watch,  about 
an  hour  before  daybreak,  a  dusky  figure  glided 
with  noiseless  step  towards  the  encampment ; 
the  young  man  cocked  his  rifle,  in  order  to  be 
prepared  against  surprise,  but  in  the  next  mo- 
ment recognized  the  commanding  form  of  his 
friend,  and  hailed  him  by  name. 

"  Netis  !"  replied  the  chief,  sitting  down  be< 
side  him,  and  wringing  the  water  from  his  leg- 
gins,  which  had  been  saturated  partly  by  the 
heavy  dew  on  the  long  grass  thruiigh  which  be 
had  made  his  way,  and  partly  by  the  streams 
which  he  had  been  obliged  to  ford. 

*  The  country  of  the  Stone-eateri,  or,  m  they  are  called 
In  their  own  !angiMge,  the  Anlneboins,  This  la  a  bmnch 
of  tlie  ereat  dioiu  tribe  to  the  northward  of  the  Klsnuri 
river ;  tlie  region  is  peculiarly  wild  and  broken,  and  tlw 
Indiuns  inhabiUng  It  are  fluuoui  for  their  pedestrian  a«> 
Uvity  nnd  endurance. 

t  Pdnimes  de  prairie  are  small  mots,  somewhat  reeenh- 
biing  while  radixhes,  that  are  found  In  great  abundance  in 
tlie  WeHtern  Wiidi'rness,  being  in  some  places  the  only 
eiculent  vegetable  within  a  range  of  raveral  hundred 
miles ;  when  cnlen  raw  they  are  lough,  tnstelnss,  and  hard 
of  digestion,  but  if  bailed  or  stewed,  are  tolerably  pala- 
table and  wholesome. 


THE  PRAI'RIE-BIRD. 


05 


true ;  but  there 
isting  bis  eyes 
eggins,  "when 
kept  me  for  a 
Dahcotah  that 
Sione-eaters.* 
e  game's  afootr 
len  who  might 

de  rested  with 
t,  who,  with  a 
^as  endeavour- 
Jc  prairief  thai. 
I  to  hiro,  with 
good  !" 
said  Reginald, 
nnahle  vanity ; 
Sioux  offer  us 
scracI(ofyour 
iremost  of  our 
'8  with  them; 
question  rela- 
iring  this  dark 

S  "  to  examine 
;n  to  approach 
!otah  encamp- 
route  by  which 
re  likely  tore- 
us  to  coDceaL 

It  seems  to  be 
-Eagle  is  only 
ntions ;  mean- 
and  get  what 
le  a  busy  day." 
sir  party  into 
ith  one  Indian 
idertaking  the 
I  was  gloomy, 
ugh  the  thick 
e  overspread ; 
>y  some  stunt- 
:ie  side  of  the 
id  cooled  their 
estined  to  the 
by  the  distant 
ie  wolves, 
watch,  about 
figure  glided 
encampment ; 
in  order  to  be 
the  next  mo- 
;  form  of  his 

ingdown  be- 
from  his  leg> 
partly  by  the 
jgh  which  be 
the  streams 


they  we  eailed 
Phil  to  a  bruieh 
of  the  HlMOOrt 
broken,  and  ttw 
'  pedeittian  ■»• 

mewhat  reaem- 
at  abundance  la 
placea  Uie  only 
iveral  hundred 
tetnss,  and  hard 
tolerably  palft- 


"Has  my  brother  found  a  path!"  inquired 
Reginald  in  a  whisper ;  "  has  he  been  near  the 
Dahcotah  villager* 

"  He  has,"  replied  the  chief;  "he  has  seen 
their  lodges." 

"  Can  my  brother  find  the  path  by  which  the 
horse-slealers  will  return  ?" 

"  He  can  guess,  he  cannot  be  sure,"  replied 
the  young  Indian,  modestly. 

Here  the  conversation  closed,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  little  party  were  aroused  and  a- foot, 
their  leader  being  resolved  that  not  a  moment 
should  be  lost,  as  soon  as  there  was  sufficient 
light  for  pursuing  the  trail. 

When  on  the  point  of  starting,  Baptiste,  ta- 
king War-Eagle  aside,  whispered  in  his  ear  a 
few  words,  on  which  the  latter  appeared  to  re- 
flect seriously  and  somewhat  in  doubt ;  he 
nodded  his  head,  however,  and  replied,  "  Well, 
it  is  good." 

The  Guide  informed  Reginald  that  at  his 
own  request  he  was  to  accompany  the  party  on 
the  trail. 

"  You  see.  Master  Reginald,"  he  continued, 
"  I  am  a  true-scented  old  hound,  nnd  if  these 
young  ones  run  too  fast,  I  may  perhaps  help  'em 
at  a  pinch ;  then  if  we  catch  the  scoundrels 
you  will  be  in  their  front  and  we  in  their  rear, 
and  they  will  be  as  bad  off  as  a  Kentucky  coon 
between  two  of  old  Dan  Boone's  cur-doga.  Re- 
member the  signals,"  he  added  impressively, 
touching  the  bugle  slung  across  his  shoulder. 
"  We  have  not  practised  them  of  late,  but  I 
have  forgot  none  of  them ;  they  may  do  us  a 
good  turn  here ;  stick  close  to  War-Eagle,  you 
are  sworn  brothers,  and,  according  to  Indian 
fashion,  if  he  falls  you  must  die  with  him  or  re- 
venge him." 

"  That  will  I,  honest  Baptiste,"  replied  our 
hero;  "the  Lenape  shall  not  say  that  their 
chief  was  deserted  by  his  adopted  brother,  neith- 
er will  I  forget  the  signals — farewell !" 

Here  the  two  parties  separated,  that  of  Bap- 
tiste resuming  their  pursuit  of  the  trail,  and 
that  of  War- Eagle  following  in  silence  the  rap- 
id strides  of  their  young  chief  across  the  prairie 
to  the  eastward.  He  marched  for  several  hours 
in  silence — his  brow  wore  an  expression  of 
tboughtfulness,  and  he  stopped  several  times  as 
if  to  scan  the  bearing  and  the  distance  of  eve- 
ry remarkable  elevation  or  object  in  the  undu- 
lating prairie  which  they  were  crossing.  It  was 
now  about  midday ;  they  had  walked  since  day- 
break without  halt  or  food ;  the  rays  of  the  sun 
were  fiercely  hot,  and  it  required  all  the  deter- 
mined ehet'^  of  Reginald's  character,  to  ena- 
ble him  to  endure  in  silence  the  heat  and  thirst 
by  which  he  was  oppressed  ;  as  for  Monsieur 
Pqrrot,  he  had  contrived  to  secrete  a  small  flask 
of  brandy  about  his  person,  more  than  one 
mouthful  of  which,  mingled  with  the  muddy 
water  of  the  pools  which  they  passed  had  hith- 
erto enabled  him  to  keep  pace  with  the  rest  of 
the  party,  but  he  was  now  beginning  to  lag  he- 
hind,  and  some  of  the  Indians  were  obliged  to 
urge  and  assist  him  forward. 

At  this  juncture  War-Eagle  suddenly  stop- 
ped, and  uttering  a  sound  like  a  low  hiss, 
crouched  upon  the  ground,  an  attitude  into 
which  the  whole  party  sunk  in  a  moment.  Lay- 
ing a  dnger  lightly  on  Reginald's  arm,  he  point- 
ed to  the  upper  range  of  a  distant  hill,  saying. 


"  There  are  men  !"  Our  hero,  shading  his  eyes 
with  his  hand,  looked  in  the  direction  indicated, 
b<it  after  a  careful  survey,  he  could  see  nothing 
but  tlie  faint  green  reposing  in  the  sunny  haze 
of  noon ;  he  shook  his  head ;  but  War-Eagle 
rcJplied  with  a  quiet  smile, 

"  My  brother  saw  the  rifles  behind  the  log 
near  the  Muskingum  ;  his  eyes  are  very  true, 
but  they  have  not  looked  much  at  the  prairie ; 
let  bin  use  his  medicine  glass-pipe." 

W*  n  Reginald  had  adjusted  his  telescope, 
he  k  ,ed  again  to  the  spot  on  which  the  bright 
clear  eye  of  War-Eagle  was  still  rivetted  like 
the  gaze  of  a  Highland  deer  hound,  who  has 
caught  sight  of  a  hart  browsing  on  the  further 
side  of  some  wide  and  rocky  glen. 

"  By  heaven,  it  is  true !"  he  exclaimed.  "  I 
see  them,  one,  two,  three,  mounted  Indians ; 
they  are  at  speed — and  buffalo  are  galloping  be- 
fote  them." 

"  That  is  good,"  said  War-Eagle ;  "  keep  the 
glass-pipe  before  them,  and  say  if  they  go  out  of 
sight,  or  if  more  appear." 

Reginald  did  so :  and  afler  a  few  minutes,  re- 
ported that  they  had  disappeared  over  a  neigh- 
bouring height,  and  that  no  others  had  come  in 
view. 

Upon  this.  War- Eagle  rose,  saying,  "My 
brother  shall  drink  and  rest — there  are  shade 
and  water  not  far."  As  he  had  said,  half  an 
hour's  march  brought  them  to  a  clump  of  stunt- 
ed alders,  beside  which  flowed  a  stream,  the 
waters  of  which  were  tolerably  fresh  and  cool. 
Here  they  ate  some  dried  buffalo  meat,  and  sat- 
isfied their  thirst,  alter  which  they  followed 
with  renewed  spirits  their  gay  leader,  whose 
iron  and  sinewy  frame  seemed  (like  that  of  An- 
taeus of  old)  to  gather  fresh  strength  every 
time  that  his  loot  fell  upon  the  earth.  The 
prairie  through  which  they  now  passed  was  ex- 
tremely hilly  and  broken,  intersected  by  many 
steep  and  narrow  ravines ;  threading  his  way 
amongst  these,  the  chief  frequently  stopped  to 
examine  the  footmarks  which  had  been  left  by 
bison,  or  other  animals,  and  oflen  bent  his 
searching  glance  along  the  sides  of  the  hills 
around  him.  The  only  living  creatures  seen 
during  the  whole  march  were  a  few  bulls,  lazily 
cropping  the  prairie  grass,  as  if  conscious  that 
their  tough  carcase,  and  burnt,  soiled  hides, 
rendered  them  at  this  season  worthless  to  the 
hunters,  who  had  driven  from  them  the  cows 
and  the  younger  bulls  of  the  herd.  Emerging 
from  these  defiles,  the  party  came  to  a  broader 
valley,  the  sides  of  which  were  very  steep; 
along  the  bottom  ran  a  stream  of  considerable 
magnitude,  on  the  banks  of  which  was  a  larg* 
tract  of  copsewood,  consisting  apparently  of  al- 
der, poplar,  and  birch,  and  afDmling  ample  spac& 
for  concealing  a  body  of  several  hundred  men. 

Towards  this  wood,  War-Eagle  led  the  way ; 
and  when  he  reached  a  few  bushes  distant  front 
it  some  hundred  yards,  he  desired  the  rest  of 
the  party  lie  still,  while  he  went  forward  alone  . 
to  explore.  During  his  absence,  Reginald  occu- 
pied himself  with  examining  through  his  glass 
the  sides  of  the  valley,  but  coukl  see  neither 
man  nor  any  other  living  creature ;  and  when 
War-Eagle  returned  and  conducted  them  into 
the  wood,  Reginald  could  read  on  his  friend's 
countenance  that  he  was  in  high  spirits  at  hav< 
ing  reached  this  point  undiscovered. 


'  I  hi 


ii 


ir 


m 


96 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


^:i 


When  they  oame  to  the  centre  of  the  wood- 
land, they  found  a  broad  trail,  near  which  they 
were  carefully  posted  by  the  chief,  in  such  a 
mnnner  that,  themselves  unseen,  they  could 
command  a  view  of  any  one  passing  along  it. 

The  party  led  by  Baptiste  was  not  less  suc- 
cessful in  carrying  out  the  instructions  given  to 
them  by  War-Eagle.  AAer  a  rapid  and  toil- 
some march  of  many  hours  upon  the  Dahcotah 
trail,  they  came  at  length  in  sight  of  their  ene- 
mies ;  although  at  a  distance  of  many  miles, 
the  prudence  and  caution  of  the  experienced 
«cout  controlled  the  impetuous  ardour  of  the 
young  Deiawares,  who  were  burning  to  revenge 
the  insult  offered  to  their  tribe.  But  Baptiste 
Was  aware  that  to  attack  with  his  present  force 
would  be  hopeless,  and  he  bent  all  his  energies 
to  creep  as  near  to  the  Sioux  as  possible,  ao 
that  he  might  be  ready  to  dash  in  upon  their 
rear,  in  case  he  should  find  that  the  ambuscade 
of  War-Eagle  was  successfully  laid;  at  the 
«ame  time,  the  hardy  woodsman  was  determin- 
ed not  to  allow  them,  under  any  circumstances, 
to  gain  the  village  without  making  by  day  or  by 
night  one  bold  eflbrt  for  recovery  of  the  horses. 
A  habit  of  self-control  was  one  of  the  distin- 
guishing features  of  the  Guide's  character ;  and 
although  his  hatred  of  the  Sioux  was  fierce  and 
intense,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  earlier  part  of 
this  tale,  he  now  conducted  his  operations  with 
a  cool  deliberation  that  might  almost  have  been 
mistaken  for  indifference ;  selecting  the  most 
intelligent  warrior  among  the  Lenape,  he  sent 
him  forward  to  creep  on  the  trail  j  he  himself 
followed  at  a  short  distatice;  then  the  other 
runners  at  short  intervals,  and  the  mounted  In- 
dians were  desired  to  keep  entirely  out  of  sight 
in  the  rear.  In  this  order  they  continued  the 
pursuit;  and  by  the  skilful  selection  of  ground, 
and  taking  advantage  of  every  trifling  hill  or 
ravine  over  which  they  passed,  he  contrived  at 
length  to  approach  as  near  as  he  deemed  it  pru- 
dent to  venture  until  he  should  see  the  result  of 
the  stratagem  devised  by  War-Eagle 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A  deserted  vlllnge  In  the  WeM.— Mahega  curies  olT 
Pralrie-blfd,  and  endeavours  hi  baffle  pursuit. 

We  must  now  shift  the  scene  to  the  spot 
where  the  Delaware  village  had  been  encamped. 
What  a  change  had  a  few  days  produced  I  The 
lodges  of  the  chiefs,  with  their  triangular  poles 
bearing  their  shields  and  trophies ;  tl.o  white 
tent  of  Prairie-bird,  the  busy  crowds  of  women 
and  children  ;  the  troops  of  horses,  the  songs 
and  dances  ol^  the  warriors — all  were  gone !  and 
in  their  stead  nothing  was  to  be  seen,  but  a  flock 
of  buzzards,  gorging  themselves  on  a  meal  too 
revolting  to  be  described,  and  a  pack  of  wolves 
snarling  and  quarrelling  over  the  remains  of  the 
unfortunate  Lenape  victims. 

On  the  very  spot  wheic  the  tent  of  Olitipa  had 
been  pitched,  and  where  the  marks  of  the  tent 
poles  were  still  easily  recognised,  stood  a  solita- 
ry Indian,  in  an  attitude  of  deep  musing ;  his 
ornamented  hunting  shirt  and  leggins,  proclaim- 
ed bis  chieftain  rank;  the  rifle  on  which  he 
leaned  was  of  the  newest  and  best  workman- 
ship, and  bis  whole  appearance  was  singularly 
striking ;  but  the  countenance  was  that  which 
would  have  rivetted  the  attention  of  a  spectator, 


bad  any  been  there  to  look  upon  it,  for  it  blend- 
ed in  its  gentle,  yet  proud  lineaments,  a  deli- 
cate beauty  almost  feminine,  with  a  high  heroic 
sternness,  that  one  could  scarcely  have  thought 
it  possible  to  And  in  a  youth  only  just  emerging 
from  boyhood  :  there  was  too  a  deep  silent  ex- 
pression of  grief,  rendered  yet  more  touching  by 
the  fortitude  with  which  it  was  controlled  and 
repressed.  Urear  and  desolate  as  was  the  scene 
around,  the  desolation  of  that  young  heart  wa« 
yet  greater ;  father,  brother,  friend !  the  beloved 
sister,  the  affectionate  instructor ;  worst  of  all, 
the  tribe,  the  ancient  people  of  whose  chiefs 
he  was  the  youngest  and  last  surviving  scion, 
all  swept  away  at  "  one  full  swoop !"  And  yet 
no  tear  fell  from  his  eyes,  no  murmur  escaped 
his  lip,  and  the  energies  of  that  heroic,  though 
youthful  spirit,  rose  above  the  tempest,  whose 
fearful  ravages  he  now  contemplated  with  stern 
and  gloomy  resolution. 

In  this  sketch  the  reader  will  recognize  Win- 
genund,  who  had  been  absent,  as  was  mention- 
ed in  a  former  chapter,  on  a  course  of  watching 
and  fasting,  preparatory  to  his  being  enrolled 
among  the  band  of  warriors,  according  to  the 
usages  of  his  nation.  Had  he  been  in  the  camp 
when  the  attack  of  the  Osages  was  made,  there 
is  little  doubt  that  his  last  drop  of  blood  would 
have  there  been  shed  before  the  lodge  of  Tame- 
nund,  but  he  had  retired  to  a  distance,  whence 
the  war  cry  and  the  tumult  of  the  fight  never 
reached  his  ear,  and  had  concluded  his  self-de- 
nying probation  with  a  dream  of  happy  omen ; 
a  dream  that  promised  future  glory,  dear  to  ev-. 
ery  ambitious  Indian  spirit,  and  in  which  the  tri- 
umphs of  war  were  wildly  and  confusedly  blend- 
ed with  the  sisterly  tones  of  Olitipa's  voice,  and 
the  sweet  smile  of  the  Lily  of  Mooshanne. 

Inspired  by  his  vision,  the  ardent  boy  return 
ed  in  high  hopes  and  spirits  towards  the  en- 
campment, but  whon  he  gained  the  summit  of 
a  hill  which  overlooked  it,  a  single  glance  suf- 
ficed to  show  him  the  destruction  that  had  been 
wrought  during  his  absence ;  he  saw  that  the 
lodges  were  overthrown,  the  horses  driven  off, 
and  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  moving  village 
were  either  dispersed  or  destroyed.  Rooted  to 
the  spot,  he  looked  on  the  scene  in  speechless 
horror,  when  all  at  once  his  attention  was  caught 
by  a  body  of  men  moving  over  a  distant  height 
in  the  western  horizon,  their  figures  being  ren- 
dered visible  by  the  deep  red  background  af- 
forded by  the  setting  sun  :  swifl  as  thought  the 
youth  darted  off  in  pursuit. 

After  the  shades  of  night  had  fallen,  tho  re- 
treating party  halted,  posted  their  sentries,  lit 
their  camp-fires,  and  knowing  that  nothing  was 
to  be  feared  from  an  enemy  so  lately  and  so  to- 
tally overthrown,  they  cooked  their  meat  and 
their  maize,  and  smoked  their  pipes,  with  the 
lazy  indifference  habitual  to  Indian  warriors 
when  the  excitement  of  the  chase  or  the  fight 
has  subsided.  In  the  centre  of  the  camp  rose  a 
white  tent,  and  beside  it  a  kind  of  temporary 
arbour  had  been  hastily  constructed  from  reeds 
and  alderboughs ;  beneath  the  latter  reclined 
the  gigantic  form  of  Mah^ga,  stretched  at  his 
length  and  puffing  out  volumes  of  kinnekenik* 


*  A  mixture  used  for  smokdnf  bv  the  Indians  of  the  Mis- 
souri ;  It  is  usually  composed  of  tolmeeo,  dried  sumach 
leaf,  and  the  Inner  bark  of  the  white  wUlow,  cut  imal. 
and  mixed  In  neailjr  equal  propoiUqu. 


.J 


THE  Pr.AlRte.BIRD. 


:,  for  it  blend- 
nents,  a  deli- 
a  high  heroic 
have  thought 
|uat  emerging 
eep  silent  ex- 
'e  touching  by 
untrolletl  and 
was  the  scene 
ing  heart  wa< 
I !  the  beloved 
;  worst  of  all, 
whose  chiefs 
rviving  scion, 
) !"  And  yet 
rinur  escaped 
leroic,  though 
mpest,  whose 
led  with  stern 

icognize  Win- 
was  mention- 
e  of  watching 
teing  enrolled 
ording  to  the 
n  in  the  camp 
18  made,  there 
'  blood  would 
Klge  of  Tame- 
ance,  whence 
le  fight  never 
3d  his  self-de- 
happy  omen ; 
•y,  dear  to  ev-. 
which  the  tri- 
fusedly  blend- 
la's  voice,  and 
HMhanne. 
mt  boy  return 
vards  the  en- 
he  summit  of 
le  glance  suf- 
that  had  been 
saw  that  the 
es  driven  off, 
loving  village 
1.  Rooted  to 
in  speechless 
)n  was  caught 
listant  height 
es  being  ren- 
ickground  af- 
8  thought  the 

kllen,  tha  re- 

sentriea,  lit 

nothing  was 

ely  and  so  to- 

ir  meat  and 

tea,  with  the 

ian  warriors 

i  or  the  fight 

i  camp  rose  a 

af  temporary 

)d  from  reeds 

tter  reclined 

itched  at  his 

r  kinnekenik* 

laniof  theMia- 

drled  aumsch 

low,  cut  HDal. 


smoke,  with  the  self-satislled  complacency  of 
success. 

Wiihin  the  tent  sat  Prairie-bird,  her  eyes 
meekly  ruised  to  heaven,  her  hands  crossed  up- 
on her  bosom,  and  a  small  basket  of  corn-cakes 
being  placed,  untasted,  upon  the  ground  beside 
her ;  at  a  little  distance,  in  the  corner  of  the 
lent,  sate  her  female  Indian  attendant,  whom 
Mahega  had  permitted,  with  a  delicacy  and  con- 
sideration scarcely  to  be  expected  from  him,  to 
share  her  mistress's  captivity.  He  had  also 
given  orders  that  all  the  lighter  articles  belong- 
ing tu  her  toilet,  and  to  the  furniture  of  her  tent, 
sirould  be  conveyed  with  the  latter,  so  that  as 
yet  both  her  privacy  aiii  her  comfort  had  been 
faithtully  secured. 

Guided  by  the  fires,  Wingenund,  who  had  fol- 
lowed with  unabated  speed,  had  no  difficulty  in 
finding  the  Osage  encampment;  neither  was 
his  iiuelllgent  mind  at  a  loss  to  apprehend  what 
had  oeciirred ;  he  had  long  known  the  view's 
and  plans  entertained  by  Mahega  respecting 
Prairie-bird,  and  when,  from  a  distant  eminence 
he  caught  a  sight  of  her  white  tent  pitched  in 
the  centre  of  a  retreating  Indian  band,  he  un- 
derstood in  a  moment  her  present  situation,  and 
the  disastroiA  events  that  had  preceded  it ;  al- 
tliough  he  believed  that  both  War-Eagle  and 
Reginald  must  have  fallen  ere  his  sister  had 
been  made  a  captive,  he  resolved  at  all  hazards 
to  communicate  with  her,  and.elther  to  rescue 
her  or  die  in  the  attempt. 

Having  been  so  long  encamped  with  the  Osa- 
gttghe  was  tolerably  well  versed  in  their  lan- 
guilge,  and  he  also  knew  so  well  the  general 
disposition  of  their  outposts  that  he  had  no 
doubt  of  being  able  to  steal  into  their  camp. 
As  soon  as  he  had  gained,  undiuovered,  the 
shelter  of  a  clump  of  alders,  only  a  fe^  bowshots 
distant  from  the  nearest  fire,  be  stripped  ofTand 
concealed  his  hunting  shirt,  cap,  leggins,  and 
other  accoutrements,  retaining  only  his  belt,  in 
which  he  hid  a  small  pocket-pistol,  lately  given 
to  him  by  Reginald,  and  his  scalp-knife,  sheath- 
ed in  a  case  of  bison-hide.  Thus  lightly  arm- 
ed, he  threw  himself  upon  the  grass,  and  com- 
menced creepirg  like  a  serpent  towards  the 
Osage  encampment. 

Unlike  the  sentries  of  civilized  armies,  those 
of  the  North  American  Indians  frequently  sit  at 
their  appointed  station,  and  trust  to  their  extra- 
ordinary quickness  of  sight  and  hearing  to  guard 
them  against  surprise.  Ere  he  had  crept  many 
yards,  Wingenund  found  himself  near  an  Indian, 
seated  with  his  back  against  the  decayed  stump 
of  a  tree,  and  whiling  away  his  watch  by  hum- 
ming a  low  and  melancholy  Osage  air ;  fortu- 
nately, the  night  was  dark,  and  the  heavy  dew 
had  80  softened  the  grass,  that  the  boy's  pliant 
and  elastic  form  wound  its  onward  way  without 
the  slightest  noise  being  made  to  alarm  the  lazy 
sentinel.  Having  passed  this  outpost  in  safety, 
he  continued  his  snaky  progress,  occasionally 
raising  his  head  to  glance  his  quick  eye  around 
and  observe  the  nature  of  the  obstacles  that  he 
had  yet  to  encounter ;  these  were  less  than  he 
expected,  and  he  contrived  at  length  to  trail 
himself  to  the  hack  of  Olitipa's  tent,  where  he 
ensconced  himself  unperceived  under  cover  of 
a  large  buffalo  skin,  which  was  loosely  thrown 
over  her  saddle  to  protect  it  from  the  weather. 
His  first  object  was  to  scoop  out  a  few  inches 
Q 


of  the  turf  below  the  edge  of  the.tent,  in  order 
that  he  might  conveniently  hear  or  be  heard  by 
her  without  raising  his  voice  above  the  lowest 
whisper. 

After  listening  attentively  for  a  few  minutes, 
a  gentle  and  regular  breathing  informed  him 
that  one  sleeper  was  wiihin  ;  but  Wingenund, 
whose  sharp  eyes  had  already  observed  that 
there  were  two  saddles  under  the  buffalo  robe 
which  covered  him,  conjectured  that  her  attend- 
ant was  now  her  companion  in  captivity,  and 
that  the  grief  and  anxiety  of  Olitipa  had  proba- 
bly banished  slumber  from  her  eyes.  "To  re- 
solve these  doubts,  and  to  effect  the  purpose  of 
his  dangerous  attempt,  he  now  applied  his 
mouth  to  the  small  opening  that  he  had  made 
at  the  back  of  the  tent,  and  gave  a  low  and  al- 
most inaudible  ^ound  from  his  lips  like  the  chirp- 
ing of  a  cricket.  Low  as  it  was,  the  sound  es- 
caped not  the  quick  ear  of  Olitipa,  who  turned 
and  listened  more  intently, — again  it  was  re- 
peated, and  the  maiden  felt  a  sudden  tremour 
of  anxiety  pervade  her  whole  frame,  as  from  an 
instinctive  consciousness  that  the  sound  was  a 
signal  intended  for  her  ear. 

Immediately  in  front  of  the  lodge  were  stretch- 
ed the  bulky  forms  o.'  two  half  slumbering  Osa- 
ges.  She  knew  that  the  dreaded  Mahega  was 
only  a  few  paces  distant,  and  that  if  some  friend 
were  indeed  near,  the  least  indiscretion  on  her 
part  might  draw  down  upon  him  certain  de- 
struction '■  but  she  was  courageous  by  nature, 
and  habit  had  given  her  presence  of  mind.  Be- 
ing aware  that  fpw,  if  any,  of  her  captors  spoke 
the  English  tongue,  she  said,  in  a  low,  but  dis- 
tinct voice,  "  If  a  friend  is  near,  let  me  hear  the 
signal  again  1" 

Immediately  the  cricket-chirrup  was  repeat- 
ed. Convinced  now  beyond  a  doubt  that  friend- 
ly succour  was  nigh,  the  maiden's  heart  throb- 
bed with  hope,  fear,  and  many  contending  emo- 
tions, but  she  lost  not  her  self-possession  ;  and 
having  now  ascertained  the  spot  whence  the 
sound  proceeded,  she  moved  the  skins  which 
formed  her  couch  to  that  part  of  the  tent,  and 
was  thus  enabled  to  rest  her  head  within  a  few 
inches  of  the  opening  made  by  Wingenund  be- 
low the  canvass. 

"Prairie-bird,"  whispered  a  soft  voice'dose 
tq  her  ear,  a  voice  that  she  had  a  thousand 
times  taught  to  pronounce  her  name,  and  every 
accent  of  which  was  familiar  to  her  ear. 

"My  brother !"  was  the  low-breathed  reply. 

"  If  the  Washashe  do  not  hear,  let  my  sister 
tell  all,  in  few  words." 

.\8  Prairie-bird  briefly  described  the  events 
above-narrated,  Wingenund  found  some  com- 
fort in  the  reflection  that  War-Eagle,  Reginald, 
and  their  band  had  escaped  the  destruction 
which  had  overwhelmed  the  Lenap6  vUlage: 
when  she  concluded,  he  replied, 

'•  It  is  enough,  let  my  sister  hope ;  let  her 
speak  fair  words  tu  Mah6ga — Wingenund  will 
find  his  brothers,  they  will  follow  the  trail,  my 
sister  must  not  be  afraid ;  many  days  and  nights 
may  pass,  but  the  Lenape  will  be  near  her,  and 
Netis  will  be  with  them.  Wingenund  must 
go." 

How  fain  was  Prairie-bird  to  ask  him  a  thou- 
sand questions,  to  give  him  a  thousand  cautioits, 
aiid  to  send  as  many  messages  by  him  to  her 
lover ;  but,  trained  in  the  severe  achool  of  In- 


■  III 


«• 


THE   PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


dian  discipline,  the  knew  that  every  word  spo- 
ken or  wliisper'ed  Increased  the  danger  already 
incurred  by  Wingenund,  and  in  obedience  to  his 
hint  she  contented  herself  with  silently  invoking 
the  blessing  of  Heaven  on  the  promised  attempt 
to  be  made  by  himself  and  his  beloved  coadju- 
tors for  her  rescue. 

"That  pale-faced  maiden  speaks  to  herself 
all  through  the  night,"  said  one  of  the  Osage 
warriorn  to  his  comrade  stretched  beside  him 
before  thn  tent. 

"  I  heard  a  sort  of  murmuring  sound,"  replied 
the  other ;  "  but  I  shut  my  ears.  Maliega  says 
that  her  words  are  like  the  voices  of  spirits ;  it 
is  not  good  to  listen !  Before  this  moon  is 
older  I  will  ask  her  to  curse  PAkptshu,  that 
Pawnee  wolf  who  killed  my  two  brothers  near 
the  Nebraske."* 

Profiting  by  this  brief  dialogue,  Wingenimd 
crept  froui  under  the  buffalo  skin,  and  looking 
carefully  around  to  see  whether  any  new  cli«nge 
had  taken  place  since  his  concealment,  he  found 
that  several  of  the  Osage  warriors,  who  had 
been  probably  eating  together,  were  now  stretch- 
ed aroimd  the  tent,  and  it  was  hopeless  to  at- 
tempt passing  ao  many  cunning  and  vigilant  foes 
undiscovered.  While  he  was  meditating  on 
the  best  course  to  be  pursued,  his  attention  was 
called  to  a  noise  immediately  in  front  of  the 
tent,  which  was  caused  by  the  horse  ridden  by 
Olitipa  having  broken  from  its  tether  and  entan- 
gled its  legs  in  the  hniter.  Springing  on  his 
feet,  Wingenund  seized  the  leather  thong,  using 
at  the  same  time  the  expressions  common 
among  the  Osages  for  quieting  a  fractious  horse. 

"  What  is  it !"  exclaimed  at  once  several  of 
the  Osage  warriors,  half  raising  themselves  from 
their  recumbent  posture. 

"Nothing,"  replied  Wingenund,  in  their  own 
tongue ;  "  the  pale-faced  squaw's  horse  has  got 
loose." 

So  saying  he  stooped  leisurely  down,  and  fas- 
tened the  laryette  again  to  the  iron  pin,  from 
which  it  had  been  detached.  Having  secured 
the  horse,  he  stood  up  again,  and  stepped  coolly 
over  several  of  the  Osages  stretched  around  the 
tent ;  and  they,  naturally  mistaking  him  for  one 
of  their  own  party,  composed  themselves  again 
to  sleep*.  Thus  be  passed  through  the  encamp- 
ment, when  he  again  threw  himself  upon  the 
ground,  and  again  succeeded  in  eluding  the  vi-' 
gilance  of  the  outposts,  and  in  reaching  safely 
the  covert  where  he  had  left  his  rifle  and  his 
accoutrements. 

The  active  spirit  of  Wingenund  was  not  yet 
wearied  of  exertion.  Seeing  that  the  course 
taken  by  the  Osages  was  westerly,  he  went  for- 
ward in  that  direction,  and  having  ascended  an 
elevated  height  commanding  a  view  of  the  ad- 
joining valleys,  he  concealed  himself  with  the 
intention  of  watching  the  enemy's  march. 

On  the  following  morning  the  Osages  started 
at  daybreak,  aod  marched  until  noon,  when  Ma- 
b^ga   halted  them,  and  put  in  execution  the 

*  The  Indian*  believe  thnt  some  peraons  hsve  Uie  pow- 
er of  Injuring,  or  even  of  tiillinE  otiien  at  fk  distance  of  many 
hundred  miles,  by  charms  and  iqiells:  this  twilef  in  witch- 
craft Is  constantly  noticed  by  Tnnncr  and  others,  who 
have  resided  long  among  the  Indians,  and  it  seems  to 
bftve  been  espccinlly  pievHieDt  among  the  Ucglbeways 
and  other  northern  U'lbet.  In  iliUftrntlop  of  a  dmtlar  no- 
tion in  the  eastern  hemisphere,  see  Burrow's  ZIneaii,  or 
the  Gypsies  of  Bpeln,  vol.  i.  chap.  Ix.  on  the  Evil  Eye. 


plan  that  he  had  formed  for  throwing  of!  any 
pursuit  that  might  be  attempted.  He  had 
brought  four  horses  from  the  Delaware  encamp- 
ment ;  of  these  he  retained  two  for  the  use  of 
Prairie-bird  and  her  attendant,  and  ordered  their 
hoofs  to  be  covered  with  thick  wrappers  of  bison 
hide;*  he  selected «lso  ten  of  the  warriors,  on 
whose  courage  and  fidelity  he  could  best  de- 
pend ;  the  remainder  of  the  band  he  dismissed, 
under  the  conduct  of  the  Flying-arrow,  with  tho 
remaining  two  horses  laden  with  a  porlitm  of 
the  Delaware  spoils  and  trophies,  desiring  tlienn 
to  strike  off  to  the  northward,  and  making  a 
trail  as  distinct  as  possible,  to  return  by  a  cir- 
cuitous march  to  the  Osage  village.  These  or- 
ders were  punctually  obeyed,  and  Muhtiga,  hav- 
ing seen  the  larger  moiety  of  his  band  start  oit 
their  appointed  route,  led  off  his  own  small 
party  in  a  south-westerly  direction,  through  the 
hardest  and  roughest  surface  that  the  prairie 
afforded,  where  he  rightly  judged  that  their 
trail  could  with  difficulty  he  followed,  even  by 
the  lynx-eyed  chief  of  the  Delawares. 

From  his  concealment  in  the  distance,  Win- 
genund observed  the  whole  manoeuvre ;  and 
having  carefully  noted  the  very  spot  where  the 
two  trails  separated,  he  ran  back  to  the  desert- 
ed Lenape  village  to  carry  out  the  plan  that  he 
had  formed  for  the  pursuit.  On  his  way  he 
gathered  a  score  of  pliant  willow  rods,  and  these 
lay  at  his  feet  when  he  stood  in  the  attitude  of 
deep  meditation,  described  at  the  commence- 
ment of  this  chapter.  He  knew  that  if  War- 
Eagle  and  his  party  returned  in  safety  fron 
their  expedition,  their  steps  would  be  direoti 
at  once  to  the  spot  on  which  he  now  stood,  and 
his  first  care  was  to  convey  to  them  all  the  in- 
formation necessary  for  their  guidance.  This 
he  was  enabled  to  do  by  marking  with  his  knife 
on  slips  of  elm  bark  various  figures  and  designs, 
which  War-Eagle  would  e.isily  understand.  To 
describe  these  at  length  would  be  tedious,  in  a 
narrative  such  as  the  present ;  all  readers  who 
know  anything  of  the  history  of  the  North  Amer- 
ican Indians  being  aware  of  their  sagacity  ia 
the  use  of  these  rude  hieroglyphics ;  it  is  suffi- 
cient here  to  state,  that  Wmgenund  was  able  to 
express,  in  a  manner  intelligible  to  his  kinsman,, 
that  he  himself  marked  the  elm-bark,  that  01it« 
ipa  was  prisoner  to  Mahega,  that  the  Osage 
trail  was  to  the  west ;  that  it  divided,  the  broad 
trail  to  the  north  being  the  wrong  one ;  and  that 
he  would  hang  on  the  right  one  and  make  moro 
marks  for  War-Eagle  to  follow. 

Having  carefully  noted  these  particulars,  h» 
stuck  one  of  his  rods  into  the  ground  and  fast- 
ened to  the  top  of  it  his  roll  of  elm-bark ;  then 
giving  one  more  melancholy  glanoe  at  the  des- 
olate scene  around  him,  he  gathered  up  his  wil- 
low twigs,  and  throwing  himself  again  upon  the 
Osage  trail,  never  rested  his  weary  limbs  until 
the  burnt  grass,  upon  a  spot  where  the  party 
had  cooked  some  bison-meat,  assured  him  that 
he  was  on  their  track ;  then  he  laid  himself 
under  a  neighbouring  b|ish  and  slept  soundly, 
trusting  to  his  own  sagacity  for  following  the 
trail  over  the  boundless  prairie  before  him. 


*  This  method  of  baffling  pursuit  Is  not  onfroquently 
resorted  to  the  by  Indian,  marauders.  The  reader  of  SbaJi- 
9|)e«re  (and  who  that  can  read  is  not  1)  will  lemeinbeii 
Lear's— 

"  It  were  a  delicate  ftrntagem  to  shoe 
A  troop  of  hone  with  felt!" 


ig  off  any^ 

He    had 

re  encamp- 

the  use  or 

lored  their 

ira  or  biaon 

arriora,  on 

(1  heat  de- 

diamisaed, 

AT,  with  tho 

portion  of 

liring  thenn 

mailing  a 

n  hy  a  cir- 

Theae  or- 

ih^ga,  hnv- 

nd  Blart  oit 

own  amall 

ihrough  the 

the  prairie 

that  their 

■d,  even  by 

»■ 

ance,  Win- 
euvre ;  and 
where  the 
the  deaert- 
lan  that  he 
hia  way  he 
a,  and  theae 
I  attitude  of 
cominence- 
liat  if  War- 
safety  froin  . 
bu  direotW 
V  Blood,  and 
n  all  the  in- 
mce.    This 
ith  hia  knife 
ind  deaigna, 
ratand.   To 
edioua,  in  a 
eadera  who- 
iorth  Amer<' 
aagacity  iii> 
it  ia  aiiffi- 
was  able  to 
tia  Itinaman,. 
(,  thatOlit. 
the  Oaage 
d,  the  broad 
le ;  and  that 
make  more 

ticulara,  h» 
id  and  fast- 
■bark;  then 

at  thedes- 
l  up  his  wil- 
lin  upon  the 

limba  until 
.  the  party 
ed  bin  that 
aid  bimaelf 
!pt  aoundly. 
Hewing  the 
re  him. 

anflrequently 
aaerofSbak- 
rill  temeiabar 


THE  PRAlRIEUIRn.   ■• 


While  Ihes*  erenta  w«re  pna«in((  on  the  Mia- 
a'uri  t'ruirit',  Paul  Mulltir  havmit  been  PMCorted 
to  the  aelllementa  and  aet  free  by  the  Osatfea, 
puraued  hia  way  towarda  St.  Louia,  then  the 
nuoleuaof  Weatrrn  trade,  and  the  point  whence 
all  expeditiona,  whether  of  a  warlike  or  oommer- 
cial  nature,  were  carried  on  in  that  region. 
He  waa  walking  slowly  forward,  revolving  In  hia 
mind  tho  melancholy  nhangea  that  had  taken 
place  in  the  course  of  the  laat  few  weeka,  the 
deatruotinn  of  Xhe  lienape  band,  and  the  captiv- 
ity of  hia  Moved  pupil,  when  he  was  overtaken 
by  a  aturdy  and  weatherbeaten  pedeatrian, 
whoae  peraon  and  attire  at;emed  to  have  been 
roughly  handled  of  late,  for  his  led  arm  waa  In 
a  aling,  varloua  patchea  of  plaeter  were  on  hia 
face  and  Ibrehead,  hialeggina  were  torn  to  ran, 
and  the  barrel  of  a  riHe  broken  oH*  ft-om  the 
stock  waa  alung  over  hia  ahoulder. 

The  Midaionary,  turning  round  to  greet  hia 
fellow-traveller  with  hia  accustomed  courteay, 
encountered  a  countenance,  which,  notwith- 
standing iia  condition,  he  recognized  aa  one 
that  he  had  aeen  ii  tho  Delaware  village. 

"  Bearakin,  my  good  friend,"  aaid  he.  hold- 
ing out  hia  hand,  and  graaping  heartily  the 
horny  flat  of  the  voyageur,  "  I  am  right  glad  to 
see  you,  although  it  aeema  that  you  have  receiv- 
ed aome  severe  hurts ;  I  feared  that  you  had 
fallen  among  the  other  victims  of  that  terrible 
day." 

"  I  oan't  deny  that  the  day  was  rough  enough," 
rcplie<l  Bearakin,  looking  down  upon  his  wound- 
ed arm  ;  "  and  the  redskin  devils  led  only  one 
other  of  my  party  beside  myself  alive;  we  con- 
trived to  beat  off  those  who  attacked  our  quar- 
ter, but  when  we  found  that  Mah6ga  had  broken 
in  upon  the  rear,  and  had  killed  Mike  Smith  and 
his  men,  we  made  the  best  of  our  way  to  the 
woods,  aevaral  were  shot  and  scalped,  two  of 
us  escaped ;  I  received,  aa  you  see,  a  few  ugly 
scratches,  but  my  old  oaroaae  ia  accnatomed  to 
iHring  buttered,  and  a  week  will  set  it  all  to 
rights." 

"  You  know,"  replied  the  Missionary,  "  that 
I  have  some  skill  In  curing  woolda.  When  we 
reach  St.  Loiiis  we  will  take  np  our  lodging  in 
the  same  house,  and  I  will  do  what  I  can  to  re- 
lieve yOuf  hurts.  Moreover,  there  are  many 
thifigs  on  which  I  wish  to  speak  with  you  at  lei- 
sure, and  I  have  frienda  there  who  will  supply 
us  With  all  that  is  needfyil  for  our  comfort." 

While  they  were  thus  conversing,  the  tall 
spites  of  the  cathedral  became  visible  over  the 
forest,  which  then  grew  dense  and  unbroken  to 
the  very  edge  of  the  town,  and  in  a  few  minutea 
Bearskin,  conducted  hy  the  Missionary  was 
anugly,  lodged  in  the  dwelling  of  one  of  the 
wealthiest  peltry-dealers  in  the  ffamous  frontier 
Qity  of  St.  Louis. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

An  Binbuicade.-^IteglniilU  Brnndim  flnds  hli  hnrse,  nnd 
M-  Permt  newrly  loses  his  head.— While  Indtnn  Phllos- 
ephy  is  dtoiilkyM  In  one  quartet,  IndiBB  credulity  ii  ex- 
hibited in  aBdtlMT. 

Wb  left  Wnr-Eagle  and  Ms  party  posted  in  a 
thicket  of  considerable  extent,  in  the  centre  of 
a  valley  through  which  he  had  calculated  that 
the  marauding  band  of  Sioux  would  return  with 


tho  captuii'd  horses  to  their  vlll.ige ;  long  and 
anxiously  did  he  wait  in  expectation  of  their  ap> 
peinincf  and  both  himacif  and  Reginald  be- 
gan to  (ear  that  they  must  have  taktn  soma 
other  route,  when  they  saw  at  a  distance  an  In- 
dian, galloping  down  the  valley  towards  them ; 
aa  lindrew  near,  tho  head-dreas  of  eagle'a  feath- 
ers, the  scalplocks  on  his  leather  hunting  shirt, 
and  tho  fringes  by  which  his  leggins  were 
ndnrncd,  announced  him  to  the  practiced  eye  of 
the  young  Delaware  chief,  aa  a  Dahcotah  brave 
of  some  distinction  ;  hut  what  was  tho  aaton- 
ishment  of  Keginald,  at  recognising  in  tho  fiery 
steed  that  Nire  him,  his  own  lost  Nekiini.  By 
an  unconscious  movement  he  threw  forward  his 
rifle  over  the  log  which  concealed  him,  and  was 
preparing  to  secure  a  certain  aim,  when  War- 
Eagle,  touching  his  arm,  whispered,  "Netisnot 
shoot,  more  Dahcotaha  are  coming, — noiae  of 
gun  not  good  here,  Netia  have  enough  ftght 
aoon, — leave  this  man  to  War-Eagle,  he  gtVe 
Netis  hack  his  horse." 

Keginald,  although  disappointed  at  not  being 
allowed  to  take  vengeance  on  the  approaching 
savage,  saw  the  prudence  of  his  friend'a  counsel, 
and  auflering  himself  to  be  guided  by  it,  waited 
patiently  to  see  how  the  Delaware  proposed  to 
act.  The  latter,  laying  aside  his  rifle,  and  arm- 
ed only  with  his  scalp-knife  and  tomahawk, 
crept  to  a  thick  bush  on  the  edge  of  the  broad 
trail  passing  through  the  centre  of  the  thicket ; 
in  his  hand  he  took  a  worn-out  mocassin,  whioii 
he  threw  carelessly  upon  the  track,  and  then 
ensconced  himself  in  a  hiding-place  which  he 
had  selected  for  his  purpose.  The  Dahcotah 
warrior,  who  had  been  sent  forward  by  his  chief 
to  reconnoitre,  and  to  whom  Nekimi  had  been 
lent  on  account  of  the  extraordinary  speed 
which  that  animal  had  been  found  to  possess, 
slackened  his  speed  as  he  entered  the  thicket, 
and  cast  his  wary  eyes  to  the  right  and  to  the 
led,  glancing  occasionally  at  the  sides  of  the 
hills  which  overhung  the  valley. 

The  Delawares  were  too  well  concealed  to  be 
seen  from  the  path,  and  he  rode  sjowly  forward 
until  he  came  to  the  spot  where  lay  the  moeaa- 
sin  thrown  down  by  War-Eagle. 

"  Ha !"  said  the  Sioux,  uttertog  a  hasty  ejaeo- 
lation,  and  leaping  from  his  horse  to  examine 
its  fashion.  As  he  stooped  to  pick  it  up  Wftr- 
Eagle  sprung  like  a  tiger  upon  him,  and  with  a 
single  blow  of  his  tomahawk  laid  the  unfortu- 
nate warrior  dead  at  his  feet.  Throwing  Neki- 
mi's  bridle  over  his  arm,  he  drew  the  body  into 
the  adjacent  thicket,  and,  having  found  in  the 
waist.>.'.n(i  the  small  leathern  bag  in  which  the 
Indiar.s  of  the  Missouri  usually  carry  thediffiow 
ent  coloured  claya  wherewith  they  paint  Ike^ji. 
selves,  he  proceeded  to  transform  himtet^  into 
a  Sioux.  Putting  on  the  Dahcotah  bf^ad-dresa 
and  other  apparel,  aided  by  one  of  «.»ie  most  ex- 
perienced of  his  band,  he  disguiPed  himself  in  a 
few  minutes  so  effectually  that,  unless  upon  a 
very  close  inspection,  he  might  well  be  taken 
for  the  Indian  whom  he  had  ^ust  killed. 

As  soon  as  this  operation  was  completed,  be 
desired  Reginald  and  the  rest  of  tbe  party  to 
remain  concealed,  and  if  he  succeeded  in  luring 
the  enemy  to  the  spot,  on  no  account  to  fire 
until  their  main  body  had  reacked  the  bush 
from  which  he  had  sprung  on  the  Sioux.  Hav- 
ing given  this  instruction,  he  vaulted  on  Neki- 


kill 


too 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


I 


tD\'%  hiok,  and  returned  at  apeed  to  the  upper 
part  uf  the  valley,  frum  which  direoliitn  he  knew 
that  the  Dahoiitaha  muat  he  apprtMchinR.  Hh 
hud  not  ridden  many  milea  ere  he  aaw  them 
advancing  at  a  leiaurely  rale,  partly  driving 
befuru  them,  and  partly  leading,  the  horaea 
alnlen  Truni  the  Dnlawarna.  Tliia  waa  an  on- 
caaion  on  which  War-Eagle  reiiuired  all  hia 
•agacity  and  preaence  of  mind,  for  ahould  he 
betray  liimaelf  by  a  false  movement  or  geatiire, 
not  only  would  the  enemy  escape  the  anare  laid 
for  them,  but  his  life  would  pay  the  forfeit  of 
hia  temerity.  Wheeling  hia  horae  about,  he 
returned  towards  the  thicket,  and,  after  riding 
to  and  fro,  aa  if  making  a  careful  Inveatigation 
of  ita  palha  and  footmarka,  he  went  back  to 
the  broad  trail,  and  aa  aoon  aa  the  foremoat  of 
the  Dahootaha  were  within  a  couple  of  hundred 
yarda,  he  made  (he  aignal  "All  right,"*  and 
rode  gently  forward  through  the  wood.  So 
well  did  hia  party  observe  the  ordera  which  he 
had  given  them,  that,  although  he  knew  the 
exact  spot  where  they  were  posted,  anil  acanned 
it  with  the  moat  aearching  glance  of  hia  keen 
'^e,  not  a  vestige  of  a  human  figure,  nor  of  a 
weapon  could  he  detect,  and  a  amila  of  triumph 
ourled  hia  lip  aa  he  felt  aaaured  of  the  auo- 
cess  of  his  plan.  No  sooner  had  he  paaacd  the 
buah  where  the  Dahcotah  had  fallen,  than  iio 
turned  aaide  into  the  thicket,  and,  having  fas- 
tened Nckimi  securely  to  a  tree,  tore  ofT  his 
Sioux  disguise,  and  reauming  hia  own  dress 
and  rifle,  concealed  himself  on  the  flank  of  hia 
party. 

The  Dahcotahs,  who  had,  aa  they  thought, 
seen  their  scout  make  the  sign  of  "  All  right," 
aAer  a  careful  examination  of  the  wood,  entered 
it  without  either  order  or  auspicion ;  neither 
did  they  discover  their  mistake  until  the  fore- 
moat reached  the  fatal  bush,  when  a  volley  from 
the  ambuscade  told  among  them  with  terrible 
enflbct.  Several  of  the  Sioux  fell  at  this  first 
discharge,  and  the  confusion  caused  by  this 
unexpected  attack  waa  increased  by  the  panic 
.among  the  horses,  some  of  which  t>eing  fright- 
vned,  and  others  wounded,  they  reared  and 
plunged  with  ungovernable  fury. 

Although  takenby  aurpriae,  the  Dahcotah  war- 
riors behaved  with  determined  courage ;  throw- 
ing themaelvea  from  their  horses,  they  dashed 
into  the  thicket  to  dislodge  their  unseen  foes, 
and  the  fight  became  general,  aa  well  as  desul- 
tory, each  man  using  a  log  or  a  tree  for  hia  own 
defence,  and  shooting,  either  with  rifle  or  bow, 
at  any  adversary  whom  he  could  see  for  a  mo- 
ment exposed.  The  Sioux,  though  more  nu- 
merous, were  unprovided  with  eifficient  fire- 
arms ;  and  sensible  of  the  advantages  thence 
ariaitig  totheir  opponents,  they  made  desperate, 
and  not  unsuccessful  efforts  to  bring  the  fight 
to  close  quarters ;  Reginald  and  War-Eagle 
were  side  by  aide,  each  endeavouring  to  outdo 


*  One  of  the  most  extraordinary  speclmenii  of  tbe  Inge- 
nuity of  the  tribes  who  Inhabit  the  Great  MiMourl  wil- 
dernesf,  and  who  spenk  many  longiiiicef,  so  different  that 
they  can  have  with  each  other  no  verbal  communication, 
Is  the  language  of  Signs,  common  to  them  all,  by  which 
Pawnees,  Dahcotahs,  Osnges,  Black-feel,  Upsarokas,  or 
the  Crows  and  other  Western  nations,  can  understand 
•ach  otiier  quite  sufficiently  for  the  ordinnry  purposes  of 
their  simuie  Ufe.  Tlie  sign  for  "all  right"  is  mads  by 
holding  tlie  hand  with  the  palm  downwards,  in  a  bori- 
CODtal  position,  and  waving  it  slowly  outwards. 


the  other  in  feata  of  gallantry,  and  at  the  aaiiM 
time  to  watch  over  the  aalety  of  his  friend. 

Monsieur  Perrot  caught  thn  general  apirit  of 
the  utfray,  and,  as  he  afterward  said  of  himself, 
"  fought  like  a  famished  lion  !"  when,  unlucktty, 
his  pistol  snapped  in  the  lace  of  a  Sioui  war< 
nor,  who  struck  him  a  blow  t'uat  felled  him  to 
the  earth.  Stepping  lightly  over  the  form  of 
Ilia  prostrate  foe,  the  aavage,  grasping  a  knife 
in  hia  right  hand,  and  seiiiiig  the  luckleaa 
Frenohman'a  hair  with  hia  lelt,  waa  about  to 
scalp  him,  when  the  knife  dropped  from  hia 
hand,  and  he  atood  for  a  moment  petrified  with 
astonishment  and  horror.  The  whole  head  of 
hair  was  in  hia  left  hand,  and  the  white  nan 
aat  grinning  before  him  with  a  amuoth  and 
shaven  crown. 

Letting  fall  what  he  believed  to  be  the  acalp 
of  some  devil  in  human  ahape,  tbe  afTrighted 
Sioux  ded  from  the  spot,  while  Perrot,  rephieing 
his  wig,  muttered  half  aloud,  "  Braw!  mu  iean* 
pirruqut  !  je  U  doit  mtlU  r*nurpmin$  I" 

At  this  crisis,  while  the  issue  of  the  geaeral 
combat  waa  atill  doubtful,  the  aound  of  a  bugle 
waa  heard  in  the  diatance,  and  tbe  aignal  imme- 
diately anawered  by  Reginakl,  who  ahuuted 
aloud  to  War-Eagle,  that  Urande-H&che  waa  at 
hand.  Inapire<l  by  the  knowledge  of  approach- 
ing reinforcement,  the  Delawares  fought  with 
renewed  coniidence,  while  the  Dahcotahs,  star- 
tled by  the  strange  and  unknown  bugle  calla, 
were  proportionately  confused  and  thrown  into 
diaorder.  The  panic  among  them  waa  com- 
plete when  the  aharp  crack  of  Baptisie's  rifle 
was  heard  in  the  rear,  and  one  of  their  prinoi* 
pal  braves  fell  dead  at  the  root  of  the  tree  which 
sheltered  him  fron>  the  fire  of  War-Eagle's  party. 
Hemmed  in  between  the  two  hostile  bands,  the 
Sioux  now  gave  up  all  hope  of  concealment, 
and  fought  with  the  courage  of  deapair ;  but 
the  reaiatance  which  they  oflfered  waa  neither 
eflfective  nor  of  long  duration.  Uaptisie,  wield- 
ing his  terrible  axe,  aeemed  resolved  this  day 
to  wreak  hia  fierce  and  long-delayed  vengeance 
on  the  tribe  at  whose  hands  he  had  austained 
such  deadly  injury ;  and  regardleaa  of  several 
slight  wounds  which  he  received  in  the  fray, 
continued  to  deal  deatruction  among  all  who 
came  within  reach.  Nor  were  Reginald  and 
War- Eagle  less  active  in  the  fight ;  the  struggle 
waa  hand  to  hand ;  the  Sioux  aeeming  to  ex- 
pect no  quarter,  and  being  determined  to  fight 
while  they  could  wield  a  knife  or  tomahawk. 

Their  chief,  a  man  of  stature  almoat  aa  power- 
ful as  that  of  Mah^ga,  aeemed  giAed  with  a 
charmed  life,  for  although  he  exposed  himself 
freely  to  the  boldest  of  his  opponents,  animating 
hia  men  by  shouting  aloud  the  terrible  war-cry 
of  the  Dahcotahs,*  and  rushing  to  thtfir  aid 
wherever  he  found  them  giving  way,  he  waa 
hitherto  unhurt,  and  bent  every  eflbrt  to  deatroy 
War-Eagle,  whom  he  easily  recognised  as  the 
leader,  and  most  formidable  of  the  Delawares. 
An  opportunity  soon  oflbred  itself,  as  War- Eagle 
was  engaged  with  another  of  the  Dahcotahs. 
The  chief  aimed  at  hia  unguarded  head  a  blow 
that  muat  have  p-nv^il  fatal,  bad  not  Reginald 
warded  it  off  with  uia  eutlaas ;  the  Indian  turned 

*  It  is  well  known  that  every  tribe  has  its  separate 
wnr-ery ;  that  of  the  Oaheotah's  resembles  Uie  short  aagqr 
bark  of  a  dog,  but  they  utter  il  with  a  |d«relii|  i'  '" 
that  renders  It  terrific  in  the  eitreme. 


1  at  the  ■MM 

■  friend. 
lerHl  ipiril  of 
I J  of  liliMcir, 
en,  unluoktky, 
I  Hioux  war- 
felled  hiin  to 
the  form  of 

■ping  ■  knife 
the  luckle^a 
\MM  about  to 
ped  from  his 
petriAed  with 
'hole  head  of 
«  whita  man 
amuoib  and 

I  be  the  acalp 
be  affrigbted 
rrot,  replaeing 
no !  ma  btnnt 
tni  I" 

>f  the  gearral 
nd  of  a  bugle 
■ignal  imme- 
who  ■huuted 
H4che  waa  at 
)  of  upproaoh- 

■  fought  with 
hcotans,  atar- 
n  bugle  onlla, 
1  thrown  into 
;in  waa  com- 
luptiBiti's  rifle 
f  their  prinoi> 
ihu  tree  which 
■Eagle'8  party. 
llle  banda,  the 

concealment, 
deapair ;  but 
J  waa  neither 
aptiste,  wield- 
)lved  this  day 
led  vengeance 
had  sustained 
iss  of  several 
1  in  the  fray, 
iiong  all  who 
Ketjinald  and 
;  the  struggle 
eeming  to  ex- 
nined  to  fight 
tomahawk, 
nost  aa  power- 
gifted  with  a 
>osed  himself 
nts,  animating 
rrible  war-cry 
to  thtfir  aid 
way,  he  waa 
fort  to  deatroy 
gnised  as  the 
le  Delawarea. 
as  War-Eagle 
e  Dahcotahs. 
1  head  a  blow 
not  Reginald 
Indian  turned 

has  its  leiwnito 
I  tb«  (hort  uigi7 
•rdac  (biUiiMii 


THK   PRAIRIE. DIRD. 


101 


Airiou^ly  upon  him,  and  a  Aeree  combat  enaued, 
but  it  was  not  of  long  duration,  for  alter  Ihfy 
had  exchanged  a  few  atrokes,  a  successful 
thrust  stretched  the  Dahcotah  chief  upon  the 
ground.  An  exulting  cry  burat  from  the  Dela- 
warea, and  the  panic-struck  Sioux  fled  in  every 
direction.  The  pursuit  waa  conducted  with 
the  merciless  eagerness  common  to  Indian  war- 
fare, and  as  Reginald  felt  no  inclination  to  join 
in  it,  he  returned  hia  cutlass  to  Its  slicath,  and 
busied  himself  in  securing  all  the  horses  that 
came  within  hia  reach. 

One  by  one  the  Delawarea  came  back  to  the 
place  of  rendezvous,  some  bearing  with  them 
the  scalps  which  they  had  takfn,  oiliera  leading 
recaptured  hnrsea,  and  all  !n  the  highcat  excite- 
mpr\t  of  triumph. 

War-Eagle  set  free  Neklini,  and  led  it  towards 
its  master.  As  soon  as  it  was  near  enough  to 
hear  his  voice,  Reginald  called  to  the  noble 
animal,  which,  shaking  its  flowing  mane,  came 
bounding  and  snorting  towarda  him.  He  ca- 
reased  it  for  a  short  time,  then  vaulted  upon  its 
back,  and  was  delighted  to  find  that  its  spirit 
and  atrenglh  had  aufTered  no  diminution  since 
its  capture.  Again  he  dismounted,  and  Nekimi 
followed  him  unled,  playing  round  him  like  a 
favorite  dog.  Whilo  ho  thus  amused  himself 
with  hia  recovered  steed,  Baptiste  sat  hy  the 
side  of  a  small  utrcamlet,  cleaning  his  axe  and 
his  rifle,  and  listening  with  a  grim  smile  to  Mon- 
sieur I'errot's  account  of  the  danger  fnmi  which 
he  had  been  saved  hy  his  peruke.  In  the  midst 
of  his  narrative  seeing  some  blood  on  the  aleeve 
of  hia  companion's  shirt,  he  said,  "  Baptiste,  you 
are  surely  wounded  1" 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  other ;  "  one  of  the  red- 
skins gave  me  a  smartish  stroke  with  a  knife  in 
that  skrimmage — however,  I  forgive  him,  aa  I 
paid  him  for  it." 

"  But  would  it  not  be  better  to  attend  to  your 
wound  firat,  and  to  your  weapons  afterwards  1" 

"Why,  no,  Monsieur  Perrot,  that  isn't  our 
fashion  in  the  woods ;  I  like  first  to  make  the 
doctor  ready  for  service,  and  then  it  will  be  time 
enough  to  put  a  little  cold  water  and  a  bandage 
to  the  cut." 

The  good-humoured  Frenchman  insisted  upon 
hia  proposal,  but  had  aome  difficulty  in  perauad- 
ing  the  rough  Guide  to  let  him  dress  the  wound, 
which,  though  deep  and  painful,  waa  not  dan- 
geroua. 

On  the  following  day  War-Eagle  returned 
with  hia  triumphant  party,  and  with  the  rescued 
horaea,  towarda  the  Delaware  village,  every 
bobom,  aave  one,  beating  high  with  exultation. 
Reginald  could  acarcely  control  hia  impatience 
to  relate  to  Prairie-bird  the  eventa  of  the  suc- 
cessful expedition.  The  young  warriors  antici- 
pated with  joy  the  beaming  aroilea  with  which 
they  would  be  welcomed  by  the  Lenape  maidena ; 
while  those  of  maturer  age  looked  forward  to 
the  well-merited  applause  of  their  chiefs,  and 
the  fierce  excitement  of  the  war-dance  with 
which  their  victory  would  be  celebrated.  Bap- 
tiste bad  satiated  hia  long-cherished  vengeance 
on  the  tribe  which  had  destroyed  his  parents, 
and  Monsieur  Perrot  prepared  many  jokes  and 
gibes,  which  he  proposed  to  inflict  upon  Mike 
Smith,  and  those  who  had  not  partaken  in  the 
gkiry  which  he  and  his  party  had  gained. 

War-Eagle  alone  shared  not  in  the  general 


Joy !  Whether  it  waa  that  he  could  not  prevent 
hia  thoughu  fVom  reverting  to  I'rairie-blrd,  or 
that  he  was  oppressed  by  a  vague  and  mysteri- 
ous presentiment  of  calamity,  his  demeanour 
was  grave,  even  to  aadnuis,  and  the  trophiea 
of  victory  hung  neglected  from  the  fringes  of  his 
dress. 

Having  taken  the  ahortest  mute,  they  arrived, 
a  few  hours  before  nlghtlHll,  at  a  point  where  a 
broad  trail  led  direct  to  tbn  encampment ;  and 
War-h'flKle,  whoae  penetrating  eyt  i<u>i  marked 
his  friend's  impatience,  and  who  nuyer  lost  an 
opportunity  of  proving  (o  him  the  warmth  of  hia 
attachment,  said  to  him, 

"  Netis  should  go  forward  and  tell  Tamcnund 
and  the  chiefs  that  the  I^enape  war-party  are 
coming,  and  that  the  Dahcotah  scalps  are  many. 
It  will  be  a  pleasant  tale  for  the  ancient  chiefs, 
and  it  ia  gmid  that  they  bear  it  from  the  mouth 
of  the  bravest  warrior." 

This  compliment  was  paid  to  him  aloud,  and 
in  the  hearing  of  the  whole  band,  who  signified 
their  approbation  by  the  usual  quick  and  repeat- 
ed exclamation.* 

Reginald  replied,  "No  one  ia  braveat  here; 
where  War- Eagle  leada,  none  but  brave  men  are 
worthy  to  follow." 

The  next  minute  Nekimi  was  in  full  speed 
towarda  the  village ;  and  the  Delaware  band, 
with  Baptiste  and  Perrot,  moved  leisurely  fur- 
ward  after  him. 

Scarcely  two  hours  had  elapsed  when  a  single 
horseman  waa  aeen  riding  towards  them,  in 
whom,  as  he  drew  near,  they  had  aome  difiicul- 
ty  in  recognising  Reginald,  for  his  dress  was 
soiled,  his  countenance  haggard  and  horror- 
stricken,  while  the  foaming  sides  and  wide-di- 
lated nostril  of  Nekimi  showed  that  he  had  been 
riding  with  frantic  and  furious  speed.  All  made 
way  for  him,  and  he  apoko  to  none  until  he  drew 
hia  bridle  by  the  side  of  War-Eagle,  and  beoH- 
oned  to  him  and  to  Baptiste  to  come  aside.  For 
a  moment  he  looked  at  the  former  in  silence 
with  an  eye  so  troubled,  that  the  Guide  feared 
that  aome  dreadful  accident  had  unsettled  his 
young  master's  mind ;  but  that  fear  waa  almoat 
immediately  relieved  by  Reginald,  who,  uking 
hia  friend'a  hand,  aaid  to  him,  in  a  voice  almoat 
inarticulate  from  auppreased  emotion, 

"  I  bring  you,  War-Eagle,  dreadful— dreadful 
newa." 

"War-Eagle  knowa  that  the  sun  does  not 
alwaya  ahine,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

"  But  thia  ia  darkneaa,"  aaid  Reginald,  ahud- 
dering ;  "  black  darkneaa,  where  there  ia  neither 
aun  nor  moon,  not  even  a  star!" 

"  My  brother,"  aaid  the  Indian,  drawing  bim- 
aelf  proudly  to  hia  full  height;  "my  brother 
apeaks  without  thinking.  The  aun  abinea  still, 
and  the  atara  are  bright  in  their  place.  The 
Great  Spirit  dwella  alwaya  among  them ;  a  thick 
cloud  may  hide  them  from  our  eyes,  but  my 
brother  knows  they  are  shining  as  brightly  as 
ever." 
'  The  young  man  looked  with  wonder  and  awe 


•  This  exclamation  resembles  the  English  word  "  How- 
how,"  repented  with  a  strong  naplmte  and  great  rapidity. 
It  seems  common  to  all  Indian  nationn,  for  tiie  author  lias 
heard  it  used  by  many  different  tribes,  nnd  li  is  mentioned 
by  Charlevoix  as  being  constantly  uttered  by  the  Natchez, 
Illinois,  and  other  Indian  nations,  then  dwelling  near  tlw 
bauluof  die  Mississippi.  .>,  -,, 


<    :   I 


102 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


I 


upon  the  lofty  countenance  or  this  iintauglit  phi- 
losopher of  the  wilderness ;  and  he  rephed, 
"  War-Eagle  is  right.  The  Great  Spirit  sees 
all,  and  whatever  he  does  is  good  !  But  some- 
times'the  cup  of  misfortune  is  so  full  aud  so 
bitter,  that  man  can  hardly  drink  it  and  live." 

"Let  Nelis  speak  all  and  conceal  n<ithing." 
said  the  chief:  "what  has  he  seen  at  the  vil- 
lage t" 

"  Thtre  is  vo  village .'"  said  the  young  man  in 
an  agony  of  grief  "The  lodges  are  over- 
thrown ;  Tamenund,  the  Black  Father,  Olitipa, 
all  arc  gone !  wolves  and  vultures  are  quarrel- 
ling over  the  hones  of  unburied  Lenape  !" 

Aa  Reginald  concluded  his  tragic  narrative, 
an  attentive  observer  might  have  seen  that  the 
muscles  and  nerves  in  the  powerful  frame  of  the 
Indian  contracted  for  an  instant,  but  no  change 
was  visible  on  his  haughty  and  commanding 
brow,  as  he  stood  before  the  bearer  of  this 
dreadful  news  a  living  impersonation  of  the 
stern  and  stoic  philosophy  of  his  race. 

"  War-Eagle,"  said  Reginald,  "  can  you  ex- 
plain this  calamity — do  you  see  through  it — 
how  has  it  happened  1" 
I    "  M«kcga,"  was  the  brief  and  emphatic  reply. 

"  Do  you  believe  that  tli*^  monster  has  mur- 
dered all,  men,  women,  and  children  1"  said 
Reginald,  whose  thoughts  >vere  tixed  on  Prairie- 
bird,  but  whose  lips  refused  to  pronounce  her 
name. 

"  No,"  replied  the  chief;  "  not  all,  the  life  of 
Olitipa  is  safe,  if  she  becomes  the  wife  of  that 
wolf;  for  the  others,  War-Eagle  cannot  tell. 
The  Washashe  love  to  take  scalps,  woman, 
child,  or  warrior,  it  is  all  one  to  them ;  it  is 
enough.     War-Eagle  must  speak  to  his  people." 

After  a  minute's  interval,  the  chief  according- 
ly summoned  his  faithful  band  around  him,  and 
in  brief  but  pathetic  language  informed  them  of 
the  disaster  that  had  befallen  t'ueir  tribe.  Re- 
ginald could  not  listen  unmoved  t6  the  piercing 
cries  and  groans  with  which  the  Delawares  rent 
the  air  on  receiving  this  intelligence,  although 
his  own  heart  was  racked  with  anxiety  concern- 
ing the  fate  of  his  beloved  Prairie-bird.  While 
the  surrounding  warriors  thus  gave  unrestrained 
Tent  to  their  lamentations,  War-Eagle  stood 
like  some  antique  statue  of  bronze,  in  an  atti- 
tude of  haughty  repose,  his  broad  chest  thrown 
forward  and  his  erect  front,  bearing  the  impress 
«r  an  unconquerable  «ill,  bidding  defiance  alike 
to  the  human  weakness  that  might  assail  from 
within,  and  the  storms  of  fate  that  might  threat- 
en from  without.  The  stern  and  impressive 
silence  of  his  grief  produced,  ere  long,  its  effect 
upon  his  followers ;  by  degress  the  sounds  of 
wailing  died  away,  and  as  the  short  twilight  of 
thQt  climate  was  rapidly  merging  into  darkness, 
tha  chief,  taking  Reginald's  arm,  moved  forward, 
whispering  to  him  in  a  tone,  the  deep  and  gloomy 
meaning  of  which  haunted  his  memory  long  af- 
terwards, 

"  The  spirit  of  Tamenund  calls  to  War-Ea- 
gle and  asks  '  Where  is  Mah^ga  V" 

On  the  following  morning  War-Eagle  rose 
an  hour  before  daybreak,  and  lead  his  party  to 
the  spot  where  the  lodges  of  their  kindred  had 
80  lately  stood,  and  where  they  had  anticipated 
a  reception  of  honour  and  triumph.  The  chief 
strode  forward  across  the  desolate  scene,  seem- 
ingly insensible  to  its  horrors ;  faithful  to  his 


determination,  all  the  energies  of  his  nature 
were  concentrated  in  the  burning  thirst  for  re- 
venge, which  expelled,  for  the  time,  every  other 
feeling  from  his  breast.  The  Delaware  war- 
riors, observant  of  the  stern  demeanour  of  their 
lead.'r,  followed  him  in  gloomy  silence ;  and  al- 
though eacli  shuddered  as  he  passed  the  well- 
known  spot  where,  only  a  few  days  before,  an 
anxious  wife  had  prepared  his  food,  and  merry 
children  had  prattled  round  his  knee,  not  a 
groan  nor  a  complaint  was  uttered  ;  but  every 
bosom  throbbed  under  the  expectation  of  a  ven- 
geance so  terrible,  that  should  be  remembered 
by  the  Osages  to  the  latest  hour  of  their  exis- 
tence as  a  tribe. 

War- Eagle  moved  directly  forward  to  the 
place  where  the  lodge  of  Tamenund  and  thp 
tent  of  the  Prairie-bird  had  been  pitched.  As 
they  approached  it  Reginald  felt  his  heart  faint 
within  him,  and  the  colour  fled  from  his  cheek 
and  lip. 

Baptiste,  taking  his  master's  hand,  said  to 
him,  in  a  tone  of  voice  the  habitual  roughness 
of  which  was  softened  by  genuine  sympathy, 
"  Master  Reginald,  remember  where  you  are ; 
the  eyes  of  the  Lenape  are  upon  the  adopted 
brother  of  their  chief;  they  have  lost  fathers, 
brothers,  wives,  and  children ;  see  how  they 
bear  their  loss,  let  them  not  think  Netis  less 
brave  than  themselves." 

"Thank  you,  thank  you, honest  Baptiste,"  said 
the  unhappy  young  man,  wringing  the  wood- 
man's horny  hand  ;  "  I  will  neither  disgrace  my 
own,  nor  my  adopted  name;  hut  who  among 
them  can  compare  his  loss  with  mine !  so  young, 
so  fair,  so  gentle,  my  o  w  n  affianced  bride,  pledged 
to  me  under  the  eye  of  heaven,  and  now  in  the 
hands  of  that  fierce  and  merciless  villain." 

At  this  moment  a  cry  of  exultation  hurst 
from  the  lips  of  War-Eagle,  as  his  eye  fell  upon 
the  wand  and  slips  of  bark  left  by  Wingenund. 
One  by  one  the  chief  examined  them,  and  de- 
ciphering their  meaning  with  rapid  and  unner- 
ring  sagacity,  communicated  to  his  friend  that 
the  youth  was  still  alive  and  free ;  that  Olitipa, 
though  a  prisoner,  was  well,  and  that  a  fine  trail 
was  open  for  them  to  follow. 

"  Let  us  start  upon  it  this  instant,"  cried  Re- 
ginald,  with  the  le-awakened  impetuosity  of  bis 
nature. 

"  War-Eagle  must  take  much  counsel  with 
himself,"  replied  the  chief,  gravely.  "  The  an- 
cient men  of  the  I^enap^  are  asleep,  their  bones 
are  uncovered ;  War-Eagle  must  not  forget 
them  ;  but,"  he  added,  while  a  terrible  fire  shot 
from  his  dark  eye,  "  if  the  tireat  Spirit  grants 
him  life,  he  will  bring  Netis  within  reach  of 
Mahega  before  this  young  moon's  horn  becomes 
a  circle." 

Having  thus  spoken,  he  resumed  his  scruti- 
ny of  the  ciphers  and  figures  drawn  upon  the 
bark ;  nor  did  he  cease  it  until  he  fully  under- 
stood their  purport ;  he  then  called  together  his 
band,  and  explained  to  them  his  further  plans, 
which  were  briefly  these : — 

He  selected  ten  of  the  youngest  and  most 
active,  who  were  to  accompany  him,  with  Re- 
ginald, Baptiste,  and  Perrot,  on  the  trail  of  Ma- 
hega ;  the  remainder  of  the  party,  under  the 
guidance  of  an  experienced  brave,  were  to  fol- 
low the  more  numerous  body  of  the  Osages,  to 
hang  on  their  trail,  and  never  to  leave  il  while 


THE  PRAIRIEBIRD, 


103 


)f  his  nature 
thirst  for  re- 
e,  every  other 
elaware  war- 
anour  of  their 
lence ;  and  al- 
)sed  the  well- 
lya  before,  an 
id,  and  merry 
knee,  nut  a 
id ;  but  every 
ition  of  a  ven- 
!  remembered 
of  their  exis- 

irward  to  the 
nund  and  thf^ 
pitched.  As 
lis  lieart  faint 
rom  his  cheek 

band,  said  to 
,ual  roughness 
ine  sympathy, 
iiere  you  are; 
n  the  adopted 
e  lost  fathers, 
see  how  they 
ink  Netis  less 

Baptiste,"  said 
ing  the  vrood- 
er  disgrace  my 
It  who  among 
line!  so  young, 
1  bride,  pledged 
ind  now  in  the 
IS  villain." 
iultation  hurst 
is  eye  fell  upon 
ly  Wingenund. 
them,  and  de- 
lid  and  unner- 
his  friend  that 
I ;  that  Olitipa, 
that  a  fine  trail 

mt,"  cried  Re- 
letuosity  of  his 


ly^ 


counsel  with 
"  The  an- 
Bp,  their  bones 
tst  not  forget 
irrible  fire  shot 
t  Spirit  grants 
itbin  reach  of 

horn  becomes 

led  his  scruti- 
awn  upon  the 
le  fully  under- 
id  togetlier  his 
further  plans, 

est  and  most 
him,  with  Re- 
he  trail  of  Ma- 
rty, under  the 
e,  were  to  foU 
the  Osages,  to 
leave  it  while 


there  remained  a  chance  or  a  hope  of  an  ene- 
■  iiiy'a  scalp.  Two  of  the  Delawares  were  at 
the  same  time  despatched,  one  to  seek  the  aid 
and  sympathy  of  the  Konsas  and  other  friendly, 
or  neutral  tribes,  the  other  to  prowl  about  the 
woods  in  the  neighbourhood,  to  collect  any  fu- 
gitives whe  might  have  escaped,  and  guide  any 
party  that  might  be  formed,  to  aid  in  the  medi- 
tated pursuit.  He  also  ordered  the  larger  par- 
ty to  gather  the  bones  and  relics  of  their  kin- 
dred, and  to  perform  the  rites  of  sepulture,  ac- 
cording to  the  custom  of  the  tribe. 

While  the  chief  was  giving  these  instructions 
to  the  several  parties  above  designated,  Regi- 
nald sat  musing  on  the  very  grass  over  which 
the  tent  of  his  beloved  had  been  spread;  no 
blond  had  there  been  spilt ;  it  had  been  spared 
the  desecration  of  the  vulture  and  the  wolf; 
her  spirit  seemed  to  hover  unseen  over  the 
spot ;  and  shutting  his  eyes,  the  lover  fancied 
be  could  still  hear  her  sweet  voice,  attuned  to 
the  simple  accompaniment  of  her  Mexican  guitar. 
How  long  this  waking  dream  possessed  his 
senses  he  knew  not,  but  he  was  awakened  from 
it  by  War-Eagle,  who  whispered  in  his  ear, 
"  The  trail  of  Mah^ga  waits  for  my  brother." 
Ashamed  of  his  temporary  weakness,  Reginald 
sprung  to  his  feet,  and  thence  upon  the  back  of 
Nekimi.  The  chief  having  chosen  four  of  the 
strongest  and  best  from  the  recaptured  horses, 
one  for  the  use  of  Perrot,  the  others  for  such 
emergencies  as  might  occur,  led  the  remainder 
with  the  main  body  of  the  Delawares,  and,  ac- 
companied by  his  small  party  thoroughly  well 
anned  and  equipped,  started  on  the  trail  io  pur- 
suit of  the  Osages. 

While  these  events  were  passing  near  the 
site  of  the  Lenap^  village,  Mah^ga  pursued  his 
westward  course  with  unremitting  activity,  for 
although  he  felt  little  apprehension  from  the 
broken  and  dispirited  band  of  Delawares,  he 
knew  that  he  was  entering  a-  region  which  was 
the  hunting-ground  of  the  Pawnees,  Otoes, 
loways,  and  other  tribes,  all  of  whom  would 
consider  him  a  trespasser,  and  would  be  dis- 
posed to  view  his  present  expedition  in  the 
Lght  of  a  hostile  incursion ;  for  this  reason,  al- 
though he  was  amply  provided  with  presents  fur 
such  Indians  as  he  might  fall  in  with,  from  the 
.plunder  of  the  Delaware  lodges,  he  marched 
with  the  greatest  rapidity  and  caution,  and 
never  relaxed  his  speed  until  he  had  passed 
that  dangerous  region,  and  had  entered  upon 
the  higher,  and,  comparatively,  less  frequented 
plain,  lying  between  the  waters  of  the  Nebras- 
ka, or  Platte  River,  and  the  lower  ridges,  known 
by  the  name  of  the  Spurs  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tams. 

During  the  whole  of  this  tedious  march  the 
attention  paid  to  the  comfort  of  Olitipa  by  her 
wild  and  wayward  captor  was  constant  and  re- 
spectful ;  secure,  as  he  thought,  from  pursuit, 
he  had  determined  to  gain  her  confidence  and 
affection,  and  thus  to  share  in  that  mysterious 
knowledge  and  i<ower  which  he  believed  her  to 
possess,  and  which  he  well  knew  that  force  or 
harshness  would  never  induce  her  to  impart. 
Thus  she  remained  continually  attended  by  her 
favourite  Lita;  when  the  band  halted  fur  re- 
freshment, the  choicest  morsels  v^ere  set  apart 
for  her  use,  and  the  yuung  branches  of  the  wil- 
low or  poplar  were  gathered  to  shelter  her  from 


tiic  sun.  Mahega  rarely  addressed  her,  but 
when  he  did  so  it  was  in  language  calculated  to 
dispel  all  apprehension  of  present  injury  or  in- 
sult ;^and  Prairie-bird,  remembering  the  parting' 
counsel  of  the  Missionary,  replied  to  the  haugh- 
ty chief's  inquiries  with  courtesy  and  gentle- 
ness ;  although  she  could  not  help  shuddering 
when  site  remembered  his  former  violence,  and 
the  dreadful  massacre  at  the  Delaware  village, 
she  felt  deeply  grateful  to  Heaven  for  having 
softened  the  tiger's  heart  towards  her,  and  for 
having  led  him,  by  means  and  motives  un- 
known to  herself,  to  consult  her  safety  and  her 
C(Hnfort. 

On  one  occasion  during  the  march,  Mah^ga 
availed  himself  of  her  mysterious  acquirements, 
in  a  manner  that  reflected  great  credit  upon  his 
sagacity,  at  the  same  time  that  it  increased,  in 
a  tenfold  degree,  the  awe  with  which  she  had 
inspired  him  and  his  adherents.  They  had 
made  their  usual  halt  at  noon,  by  the  side  of  a 
small  stream ;  Prairie-bird  and  her  faithful  Lita 
were  sheltered  from  the  burning  rays  of  the 
sun  by  an  arbour  of  alder-branches,  which  the 
Osages  had  hastily  but  not  inconveniently,  con- 
structed ;  Mahega  and  his  warriors  being  oc- 
cupied in  eating  the  dainty  morsels  of  meat  af- 
forded by  a  young  buffHio  cow  killed  on  the 
preceding  day,  when  a  large  band  of  Indians 
appeared  on  the  brow  of  a  neighbouring  hill, 
and  came  down  at  full  speed  towards  the 
Osage  encampment.  Mahega,  without  mani- 
festing any  uneasiness,  desired  his  men  to  pile 
a  few  of  their  most  valuable  packages  within 
the  arbour  of  Olitipa,  and  to  form  themselves 
in  a  semicircle  around,  for  its  protection,  their 
bows  and  rifles  being  ready  for  immediate  use. 
Having  made  these  dispositions,  he  waited  the 
approach  of  the  strangers,  quietly  cutting  his 
buffalo  beef  and  eating  it  as  if  secure  of  their 
friendly  intentions.  Having  come  within  a 
hundred  yards,  they  drew  in  their  bridles  on  a 
signal  from  their  leader,  who  seemed  disposed 
to  take  a  more  deliberate  survey  of  the  party. 
From  their  appearance  Mahega  knew  that  they 
must  belong  to  one  of  the  wild  roving  tribes 
who  hunt  between  the  sources  of  the  Platte 
and  Arkansas  rivers,  but  the  name  or  designa- 
tion of  their  tribe  he  was  at  first  unable  to  make 
out.  Their  weapons  were  bows  and  arrows, 
short  clubs,  and  knives ;  their  dress,  a  hunting- 
shirt  of  half-dressed  skin,  a  centre-cloth  of  the 
same  material,  and  mocassins  on  their  feet, 
leaving  the  legs  entirely  bare ;  the  leader  bad 
long  hair,  clubbed  at  the  back  of  his  head,  and 
i\tstened  with  sinew-strings  round  a  wooden 
pin,  to  which  were  attached  several  stained 
feathers,  which  danced  in  the  wind,  and  height- 
ened the  picturesque  effect  of  his  costume. 

A  rapid  glance  sufficed  to  show  him  that  the 
new  comers,  although  apparently  busied  about 
their  meal  without  distrust,  were  not  only 
well  armed,  but  ready  for  immediate  service ; 
nor  did  his  eye  fail  to  note  the  martial  bearing 
and  gigantic  proportions  of  Mahega,  who  sat 
like  a  chief  expecting  the  approach  of  an  inferior. 
Influenced  by  these  obdcrvations,  the  leader 
of  the  roving  band  resolved  that  the  first  inter- 
course at  least,  should  be  of  a  peaceful  nature, 
prudently  reflecting,  that  as  his  own  numbers 
were  far  superior,  the  nearer  the  quarters  the 
greater  would  be  tbeir  advantage.    Having  ut- 


[) '! 


t- 


104 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


PI' 


f 


tered  a  few  brief  words  to  his  followers,  he  ad- 
vanced with  a  friendly  gesture  towards  Mahe- 
ga,  and  the  following  dialogue  took  place,  in  the 
ingenious  language  of  signs  before  referred 
to:— 

Mahiga. — "  What  tribe  are  you  1" 

Leader. — "Ari-ca-r6.»  What  are  you,  and 
whither  going  T' 

M. — "  Washashe,  going  to  the  mountains." 

L.— "  What  seek  you  there  1" 

M. — "  Deaver,  otter,  and  grisly  bear-skins." 

L. — "Good.  What  is  in  the  green-branch- 
wig  wain." 

M. — "Great  Medicine — let  the  Aricara  be- 
ware." To  this  the  chief  added  the  sign  usu- 
ally employed  for  their  most  solemn  mysteries. 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on,  the 
rovers  of  the  wilderness  had  gradually  drawn 
nearer,  not,  however,  unperceived  by  Mahega, 
who,  throwing  down  a  strip  of  blanket  at  a  dis- 
tance of  twenty  yards  from  the  arbour  of  Prairie- 
bird,  explained  by  a  sign  sufficiently  intelligible, 
that  if  the  main  body  of  them  crossed  that  line 
his  party  would  shoot. 

At  a  signal  from  their  leader  they  again  halt- 
ed ;  and  Mahega  observed  that  from  time  to 
time  they  threw  hasty  glances  over  the  hill 
whence  they  had  come,  from  which  he  inferred 
that  more  of  their  tribe  w^re  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood. 

Meanwhile  their  leader,  whose  curiosity 
urged  him  to  discover  what  Great  Medicine  was 
contained  in  the  arbour,  advanced  fearlessly 
alone  within  the  forbidden  precincts,  thus  placing 
his  own  life  at  the  n)ercy  of  the  Osages. 

Ordering  his  men  to  keep  a  strict  watch  on 
the  movements  of  the  Aricaras,  and  to  shoot  the 
first  whom  they  might  detect  in  fitting  an  arrow 
to  his  bowstring,  Mahega  now  lighted  a  pipe, 
and  courteously  invited  their  leader  to  smoke ; 
between  every  successive  whiff  exhaled  by  the 
latter,  he  cast  an  inquisitive  glance  towards  the 
arbour,  but  the  packages  and  the  leafy  branches 
baifled  his  curiosity ;  meanwhile  the  prelimi- 
naries of  peace  having  been  thus  amicably  in- 
terchanged, the  other  Aricaras  cast  themselves 
from  their  horses,  and  having  given  them  in 
charge  to  a  few  of  the  youngest  of  the  party, 
the  remainder  sat  in  a  semicircle,  and  gravely 
accepted  the  pipes  handed  to  them  by  order  of 
Mahega. 

That  chief,  aware  of  the  mischievous  propen- 
sities of  his  new  friends,  and  equally  averse  to 
intimacy  or  hostility  with  such  dangerous  neigh- 
bours, had  bethought  himself  of  a  scheme  by 
which  he  might  at  once  get  rid  of  them  by  in- 
spiring them  with  superstitious  awe,  and  gratify 
himself  with  a  sight  of  one  of  those  wonders 
which  .  le  Missionary  had  referred  to  in  his  last 
warning  respecting  the  Prairie-bird.  It  was 
not  long  before  the  curiou?  \ricara  again  ex- 
pressed his  desire  to  know  the  Great  Medicine 
.  contents  of  the  arbour.  To  this  Mahega  replied, 

"A  woman,"  adding  again  the  sign  of  solemn 
mystery. 

"  A  woman !"  replied  the  leader,  in  his  own 
- 

*  Aricaii.  This  tribe  is  by  descent  a  brancli  of  the 
great  Pawnee  nation,  to  whose  ianguRfe  their  own  still 
Bears  a  close  resemblance ;  they  are  usually  known  among 
western  travellers  by  the  najiie  of  Riccarees,  and  the 
French  call  them  "  Lea  Uia ;"  they  ore  a  very  predatory, 
wUd,  and  thievish  race. 


tongue,  expressing  in  his  countenance  the  scorn 
and  disappointment  that  he  felt. 

"A  woman,"  repeated  Mah6ga,  gravely; 
"but  a  Medicine  Spirit.  We  travel  to  the 
mountains;  she  will  then  go  to  the  land  of 
spirits." 

The  Aricari  made  here  a  gesture  of  impatient 
incredulity,  with  a  sign  that,'  if  he  could  not  seo 
some  medicine-feat,  he  would  believe  that  the 
Osage  spoke  lies. 

Mahega,  desiring  him  to  sit  still,  and  his  own 
party  to  be  watchful,  now  approached  the  ar- 
bour, and,  addressing  Prairie-bird  in  the  Dela- 
ware tongue,  explained  to  her  their  present  situ- 
ation, and  the  dangerous  vicinity  of  a  mischiev- 
ous, if  not  a  hostile  tribe,  adding,  at  the  same 
time, 

"  Olitipa  must  show  some  wonder  to  frighten 
these  had  men." 

"  What  is  it  to  Olitipa,"  replied  the  maiden, 
coldly,  "  whether  she  is  a  prisoner  to  the  Osage, 
or  to  the  Western  Tribe  1  perhaps  they  would 
let  her  go." 

"Whither?"  answered  the  chief  «'Doea 
Olitipa  think  that  these  prairie  wolves  would 
shelter  her  fair  skin  from  the  sun,  or  serve  and 
protect  her  as  Mahega  does  ?  if  she  were  their 
prisoner  they  would  take  from  her  everything 
she  has,  even  her  Medicine  Book,  and  make  her 
bring  water,  and  carry  burdens,  and  bear  children 
to  the  man  who  should  take  Mah^ga's  scalp." 

Bad  as  was  her  present  plight  and  her  future 
prospect,  the  poor  girl  could  not  help  shudder- 
ing at  the  picture  of  hopeless  drudgery  here  pre- 
sented to  her  eyes,  and  she  replied, 

"  What  does  the  Osage  Chief  wish  t  how 
should  his  prisoner  frighten  these  wild  men  1" 

"The  Black  Father  said  that  Olitipa  could 
gather  the  beams  of  the  sun,  as  our  daughters 
collect  the  waters  of  a  stream  in  a  vessel,"  said 
the  Chief,  in  a  low  tone. 

Instantly  catching  the  hint  here  given  by  her 
beloved  instructor,  and  believing  that  nothing 
done  in  obedience  to  his  wishes  could  be  in  it- 
self wrong,  she  resolved  to  avail  herself  of  this 
opportunity  of  exciting  the  superstitious  awe  of 
the  savages,  and  she  replied, 

"  It  is  good.  Let  Mahega  sit  by  the  strange 
men ;  Olitipa  will  come." 

Hastily  winding  a  party-coloured  kerchief  in 
the  form  of  a  turban,  around  the  rich  tresses  of 
her  dark  hair,  and  throwing  a  scarf  over  her 
shoulder,  she  took  her  small  bag,  or  reticule,  in 
her  hand,  and  stepped  forth  from  the  arbour. 
Such  an  apparition  of  youthful  bloom,  grace,  and 
beauty,  extracted  even  from  the  wild  leader  of 
the  Aricar&s,  an  exclamation  of  astonished  ad- 
miration. Having  seated  herself  upon  a  finely- 
painted  bison  robe,  placed  for  her  by  Lita,  she 
waited  gravely  until  Mah6ga  should  have  pre- 
pared the  stranger  chief  for  what  was  to  follow. 

It  was  now  scarcely  an  hour  after  noon,  and 
the  sun  shone  full  upon  them,  with  bright  and 
excessive  heat ;  Mahega,  pointing  upward,  ex- 
plained to  the  Aricara  that  the  Woman-Spirit 
would  bring  some  fire  down  from  that  distant 
orb.  He  could  not  give  any  further  information, 
being  totally  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  the  won- 
der to  be  wrought,  and  as  anxious  to  witness  it 
as  the  wild-chief  himself 

"  Where  will  she  place  itl"  he  inquired. 

"  In  the  chief's  hand,"  replied  the  maiden. 


lanee  the  scorn 

i6ga,  gravely; 
travel  to  the 
|o  the  land  of 

re  of  impatient 

)  could  not  363 

elieve  that  the 

II,  and  his  own 
rached  the  ar- 
d  in  the  Dela- 
ir  present  situ- 
of  a  mischiev- 
i,  at  the  same 

der  to  frighten 

d  the  maiden, 
r  to  the  Osage, 
ps  they  would 

shief  "Does 
MToIves  would 
,  or  serve  and 
ihe  were  their 
ler  everything 
and  maiie  her 
d  bear  children 
^ga's  scalp." 
and  her  future 
help  shudder- 
gery  here  pre- 

f  wish!   how 

wild  men  V 

Olitipa  could 

our  daughters 

a  vessel,"  said 

B  given  by  her 
:  that  nothing 
Bould  be  in  it- 
herself  of  this 
titioas  awe  «f 

>y  the  strange 

ed  kerchief  in 
ich  tresses  of 
carf  over  her 
or  reticule,  in 
n  the  arbour, 
im,  grace,  and 
nrild  leader  of 
istonished  ad- 
upon  a  finely- 
'  by  Lita,  she 
uld  have  pre- 
Bvas  to  follow, 
ler  noon,  and 
th  bright  and 
:  upward,  ex- 
iVoman-Spirit 
I  that  distant 
r  information, 
9  of  the  won- 
to  witness  it 

inquired, 
i  the  maiden. 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


105 


whose  intelligent  mind  had  long  since,  during 
her  residence  with  the  Delawares,  become 
familiar  with  the  language  of  signs. 

The  two  leaders  now  explained  to  their  fol- 
lowers, in  their  respective  tongues,  the  great 
medicine  which  they  were  about  to  see  ind 
the  latter,  forgetful  alike  of  distrust  tri  .a- 
tion,  crowded  with  irresistible  curioeiv  uut 
the  spot,  Maliega  alone  preserving  his  ) .  >iiual 
self-command,  and  warning  those  neare&t  to 
him  to  be  prepared  against  treachery  or  surprise. 
The  only  ornament  worn  by  the  Aricara  leader 
was  a  collar,  made  of  dark  blue  cloth,  adorned 
with  porcupine  quills,  and  girt  with  the  formid- 
able claws  of  the  grisly  bear.  This  collar,  being 
at  once  a  trophy  of  his  prowess,  and  a  proof  of 
its  having  been  gained  among  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tain traders,  (from  whom  alone  the  cloth  could 
have  been  procured  in  that  remote  region.)  was 
highly  prized  both  by  the  owner  and  his  follow- 
ers, and  was,  therefore,  as  well  as  from  it  colour, 
selected  by  Prairie-bird  as  a  fitting  object  on 
which  to  work  her  "  medicine  wonder."  She 
desired  him  to  take  it  from  his  neck  and  to  place 
it  on  the  grass,  with  his  hands  below  it,  that  no 
fire  might  come  near  it.  When  he  had  complied 
with  her  request,  she  drew  from  her  bag  a  burn- 
ing-glass, and,  carefully  adjusting  the  focus,  held 
it  over  the  dark  blue  cloth,  in  which  ere  long  a 
hole  was  burnt,  and  the  astonished  leader's 
hand  below  was  scorched. 

It  is  impossible  to  depict  the  wonder  and  awe 
of  the  atientive  savages ;  they  looked  first  at 
her,  then  at  her  glass,  then  at  the  sun ;  then 
they  re-examined  the  cloth,  and  ascertained  that 
it  was  indeed  burnt  through,  and  that  the  smell 
of  fire  still  rested  on  the  edge  of  the  aperture. 
After  this  they  withdrew  several  paces  from  the 
spot,  the  leader  inquiring  with  submissive  signs 
whether  he  might  replace  the  collar  ?  to  which 
inquiry  the  maiden  gravely  bowing  assent,  re- 
tired again  into  the  arbour.  For  some  time  a 
profound  silence  ensued,  the  Osages  being  as 
much  awe-struck  as  the  Aricaras ;  even  Mahega 
himself  was  not  proof  against  the  prevalciit  feel- 
ing of  superstitious  terror;  and  thus,  while  de- 
siring Prairie-bird  to  terrify  others,  he  had  un- 
consciously furnished  her  with  a  mysterious  and 
powerful  check  upon  himself 

It  was  not  long  before  the  .\ricar&s  rose  to 
take  leave, — their  chief  presenting  Mahega  with 
a  fine  horse ;  and  receiving  in  return  sundry 
ornaments  and  trinkets,  of  no  real  value,  but 
highly  prized  from  their  rarity  in  that  wild  and 
desolate  region.  As  they  withdrew,  they  cast 
many  a  furtive  glance  at  the  arbour  and  its 
mysterious  tenant,  seemingly  glad  when  they 
found  themselves  at  such  a  distance  as  rendered 
them  safe  from  her  supernatural  influence.  On 
their  return  to  their  own  people,  they  related, 
with  considerable  exaggeration,  the  wonders 
which  they  had  witnessed;  and  Prairie-bird 
was  long  afterwards  spoken  of  in  the  tribe  by  a 
name  equally  impossible  to  print,  or  to  pro- 
nounce, but  which,  if  translated  into  English, 
would  be,  "The  Great-Medicine-Daughter-of- 
the-burning-Sun !" 

After  this  adventure,  Mahega  pursued  his 
uninterrupted  Way  towards  the  spurs  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains;  his  manner  and  hearing 
towards  Prairie-bird  being  more  deferential 
than  ever,  and  the  passion  that  he  entertained 


for  her  being  checked  and  awed  by  the  miracu>i 
luus  power  that  she  had  displayed ;  he  stift 
nourished  strong  hopes  of  being  able  ultimately 
to  gain  her  affection,  but  in  the  meantime  re- 
solved to  turn  her  supernatural  skill  to  good 
account,  by  frightening  such  wild  roving  bands 
as  they  might  fall  in  with,  and  extorting  from 
their  superstitious  fears  valuable  presents  in 
horses  and  peltry. 

Meanwhile,  the  maiden's  observant  eye  had 
marked  the  effect  upon  Mah6ga  produced  by  the 
burning-glass,  in  spite  of  his  well-dissembled 
indifl!erence,  and  she  secretly  determined  that 
the  chief  use  that  she  could  make  of  such  exhi- 
bitions as  were  calculated  to  excite  superstitious 
awe  among  Indians,  should  be  to  maintain  tho 
command  over  Mah(!ga,  which  she  was  con- 
scious  she  now  possessed. 

During  the  whole  of  this  long  and  toilsome 
march,  the  faithful  and  indefatigable  Wingenund 
hovered  over  the  trail  at  such  a  distance  as 
never  to  be  perceived  by  any  of  the  party,  and 
left  at  occasional  intervals  a  willow-rod,  or  a 
slip  of  bark,  so  marked  as  to  be  a  sure  guide  to 
an  eye  less  keen  and  sagacious  than  that  of 
War-Eagle.  His  only  food  was  dried  undressed 
buffalo  meat ;  his  drink,  the  stream  where  the 
Osages  had  slaked  their  thirst ;  bis  bed,  the 
barren  prairie ;  he  made  no  fire  to  scare  away 
the  proA'ling  wolves,  that  yelped  and  howled  at 
night  round  his  solitary  couch,  his  only  protec- 
tion from  their  ravenous  hunger  being  a  tufl  of 
damp  grass,  over  which  he  rubbed  some  powder 
from  his  flask.  Twice  was  be  descried  and 
pursued  by  roving  bands  of  Indians,  but  on 
both  occasions  saved  himself  by  his  extraordi- 
nary fleetness  of  foot ;  and  the  moment  that 
the  immediate  danger  was  over,  renewed  his 
weary  and  difficult  task. 

Cheered  by  his  deep  affection  for  his  sister, 
encouraged  by  the  approval  which  he  knew 
that  his  exertions  would  meet  from  War-Eagle 
and  Reginald,  and,  more  than  all,  stimulated  by 
the  eager  desire  to  distinguish  himself  as  a 
Delaware  chief  on  this  his  first  war-path,  the 
faithful  youth  hung  over  the  long  and  circuitous 
trail  of  his  enemies  with  the  patience  and  uner- 
ring sagacity  of  a  bloodhound — and  though  she 
saw  him  not.  Prairie-bird  felt  a  confident  assu- 
rance that  her  beloved  young  brother  would  be 
true  to  his  promise,  aqd  would  never  leave  nor 
desert  her  while  the  pulses  of  life  continued  t(» 
beat  in  his  affectionate  heart. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

EthelaUm  vUtto  St.  Loali,  where  he  OBezpeetedly  meets 
an  old  Bcquainlance,  and  undertake!  a  longer  Journey 
than  he  had  contemplated. 

Ddr.no  the  occurrence  of  the  events  related 
in  the  preceding  chapters,  the  disputes  and 
difficulties  attending  t'.ie  distribution  of  peltries 
among  the  different  fur  companies  at  St.  Louis 
had  rather  increased  than  diminishd,  and  Ethel- 
stnn  had  found  himself  compelled,  however  un- 
willingly, again  to  bid  adieu  to  Lucy,  and  take 
a  trip  to  the  Mississippi  for  the  arrangement  of 
his  guardian's  affairs  in  that  quarter ;  a  consid- 
erable portion  of  the  fortune  that  he  inherited 
from  his  father  was  invested  in  the  same  soe- 


yi 


^ 


"f      ! 


106 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


dilation,  and  he  eoiiUl  not,  without  incurring 
the  charge  of  culpable  negligence,  leave  it  in 
the  hands  of  others  at  a  great  distance,  many 
of  whose  interests  might  perhaps  he  at  variance 
With  those  of  Colonel  Brandon  and  himself 

He  had  been  only  a  short  time  in  St.  Louis, 
when  one  day  on  passing  the  cathedral,  he  met 
two  men,  whose  appearance  attracted  his  at- 
tention. The  one  was  past  the  meridian  of 
life,  and  the  benevolent  Ihonghtfulness  of  his 
countenance  accorded  well  with  the  sober  suit 
of  black  that  indicated  the  profession  to  which 
lie  belonged ;  the  other  was  a  stout,  square- 
built  man,  evidently  cast  in  a  coarser  mould 
than  his  companion,  but  apparently  conversing 
■with  him  on  terms  of  Iriendly  familiarity.  After 
looking  steadily  at  this  second,  Ethelston  felt 
convinced  that  he  was  not  mistaken  in  address- 
ing  him,  "  Bearskin,  my  good  friend,  how  come 
you  to  be  in  St.  Louis  1  I  thought  you  were 
busy,  bear  and  buffalo  hunting  with  my  friend 
Reginald,  among  the  Delawares  of  the  Mis- 
souri 1" 

"  Ha !  Master  Ethelston,"  replied  the  sturdy 
Toyageur,  "  I  am  right  glad  to  see  your  face 
here.  We  have  been  in  some  trouble  of  late, 
and  instead  of  our  hunting  the  bears,  the  bears 
has  hunted  us." 

"  I  see  you  have  been  in  seme  trouble,"  said 
Ethelston,  noticing  for  the  first  time  the  boat- 
man's scars  and  bruises ;  "  but  tell  me,"  he 
added,  hastily  catching  him  by  the  arm,  "  has 
any  evil  befallen  my  friend,  my  brother  Regi- 
nald V 

"  No  harm  that  I  knows  of,"  replied  the  other ; 
*'  but  I  must  say  that  things  wern't  what  a  man 
might  call  altogether  pleasant,  where  I  lefl  him." 

"  What !"  exclaimed  Ethelston,  with  an  in- 
tlignation  that  he  made  no  attempt  to  conceal, 
*'  you  left  him  in  danger  or  in  difficulties,  and 
can  give  no  account  of  himt  Bearskin,  I  would 
not  have  believed  this  of  you,  unless  I  had  it 
from  your  own  lips  !*' 

"  Master  Ethelston,"  answered  the  justly  of- 
fended voyageur,  "  a  man  that  goes  full  swinir 
do<vn  the  stream  of  his  own  notions,  without 
heeding  oar  or  helm,  is  sure  to  run  athwart  a 
jsnag ;  here's  my  worthy  friend  here,  Paul  Mul- 
ler,  aivd  though  he  is  a  preacher,  I'll  hold  him 
as  honest  a  man  as  any  in  the  Territory ;  he 
■can  tell  you  the  whole  story  from  one  end  to 
t'other ;  and  when  he's'  done  so,  perhaps  you'll 
be  sorry  for  what  you've  said  to  old  Bearskin." 

"I  am  already  sorry,"  replied  Ethelston, 
moved  by  the  earnest  simplicity  of  the  scarred 
and  weather-beaten  boatman.  "I  am  already 
sorry  that  I  have  done  you  wrong,  but  you  will 
make  allowance  for  my  impatience  and  anxiety 
concerning  my  brother's  fatel"  (Ethelston  al- 
ways spoke  of  Reginald  as  his  brother,  for  he 
had  a  secret  and  undefined  pleasure  in  so  doing, 
as  it  itnplied  his  union  with  the  sister  of  his 
friend.)  Paul  Miiller,  easily  guessing  from  the 
few  words  that  had  passed  that  the  person  now 
addressing  Bearskin  was  the  Edward  Ethelston 
of  whom  Reginald  had  so  often  spoken  to  him, 
aaid, 

"  Sir,  you  certainly  did  an  injustice  to  Bears- 
skin,  in  thinking  him  capable  of  deserting  a 
friend  in  need ;  but  the  apology  you  have  offered 
is,  I  am  sure,  ^sufficient  in  satisfy  him.  The 
intellij;enee  which  I  have  to  commuTiicate  res- 


pecting Reginald  Brandon  and  his  party  is  in 
some  re.'»pects  exceedingly  melancholy ;  if  you 
will  accompany  me  to  our  lodging,  which  is 
just  at  hand,  I  will  explain  it  to  you  in  full, 
meanwhile,  rest  satisfied  with  the  assurance 
that,  to  the  best  of  our  belief,  your  friend  is  safe 
and  well  in  health." 

As  soon  as  they  had  entered  the  house,  Bear- 
skin, forgetting  the  hasty  words  which  had  so 
much  hurt  his  feelings,  busied  himself  in  pre- 
paring some  refreshment  for  Ethelston,  while  the 
Missionary  related  to  him  all  that  had  occurred 
since  his  friend  joined  the  Delaware  encamp- 
ment. He  did  not  even  conceal  from  him  the 
violent  passion  that  the  latter  had  conceived 
for  Prairie-bird,  and  the  despair  with  which,  on 
his  return  to  the  village  from  the  Sioux  expedi- 
tion, he  would  learn  the  destruction  of  her  kin- 
dred, and  her  own  captivity  among  theOsages. 

"  Indeed,  my  good  sir,"  said  Ethelston,  "  I 
must  freely  confers  that  this  portion  of  your  in- 
telligence is  the  only  one  that  brings  with  it  any 
comfort ;  the  fate  of  Mike  Smith  and  his  com- 
panions, and  the  destruction  of  the  unoffending 
Delawares,  are  disasters  deeply  to  be  lamented, 
but  surely,  the  fact  of  the  Osage  chief  having 
carried  off  the  Indian  maiden  whom  you  call 
Prairie-bird,  and  who  seems  to  have  exercised 
such  a  strange  fascination  over  Reginald  Bran- 
don, can  scarcely  be  regretted :  for  she  will 
be  more  likely  to  find  a  congenial  mate  among 
the  Red-skins,  and  a  bitter  disappointment  will 
be  spared  to  my  excellent  guardian,  Colonel 
Brandon." 

"  I  know  not,  my  son,"  answered  the  Mis- 
sionary mildly ;  "  the  ways  of  Providence  are 
inscrutable,  and  it  dees  frequently  happen,  as 
you  say,  that  events  which  we  lament  at  the 
moment,  aflbrd  afterwards  just  grounds  for  re- 
joicing ;  nevertheless,  I  cannot  view  this  mat- 
ter exactly  as  you  do,  fur  I  have  known  the 
maiden  from  her  childhood,  and  she  is  a  more 
fitting  briite  for  a  christian  gentleman,  than  for 
a  heathen  warrior.'' 

"  I  did,  indeed,  hear  the  Colonel,  and  the  oth- 
er members  of  the  family  at  Mooshanne,  say, 
that  the  Delaware  youth  who  so  bravely  de- 
fended the  life  of  Reginald  at  the  risk  of  his 
own,  had  spoken  in  thf  highest  terms  of  praise 
respecting  his  sister,  the  Prairie-bird,  as  if  she 
were  a  being  of  a  superior  race ;  but  you,  my 
good  father,  are  above  the  prejudices  which 
darken  the  minds  of  these  Indians,  and  you 
must  therefore  know,  that  whatever  may  be  her 
beauty  and  r.rt^iable  qualities,  she  is,  after  all, 
the  daughter  of  a  Delaware  chief,  and  as  such, 
could  not  be  a  welcome  inmate  of  my  guardian'i 
house." 

"  Nay,  my  son,"  replied  the  Missionary, "  she 
is  but  the  adopted  child  ot  the  venerable  Dela- 
ware who  lately  fell  in  the  massacre  which  I 
have  related  to  you  ;  she  was  not  of  his  blood 
nor  of  his  race ;  such  qualities  and  nurture  as 
she  possesses  have  been  in  some  measure  the 
fruit  of  my  own  care  and  toil.  Were  it  not 
that  you  might  mistake  my  language  for  that  of 
boasting,  I  would  say,  that  although  the  prai- 
rie has  been  her  dwelling,  and  a  Lenape  lent 
her  home,  she  does  not  in  her  education  fall 
far  short  of  your  maidens  in  the  settlements, 
who  have  had  greater  advantages  of  instruc- 
tion." 


fcWi.a? 


vv-M  rw,v 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


107 


I) is  party  is  in 
icholy ;  if  you 
;ing,  whicli  is 
lo  you  in  full, 
the  assurance 
r  friend  is  safe 

le  house,  Bear- 

which  had  so 
limself  in  pre- 
ston,  while  the 
t  had  occurred 
ware  encamp- 

from  him  the 
had  conceived 
vith  which,  on 

Sioux  expedi- 
ion  of  her  kin- 
ng  the  Osages. 
Ethelston,  "I 
ion  of  your  in- 
[)gs  with  it  any 
I  and  his  coni- 
lie  unoffending 
»  be  lamented, 
e  chief  having 
?hom  you  call 
lave  exercised 
leginald  Bran- 

for  she  will 
1  mate  among 
pointment  will 
rdian,  Colonel 

ered  the  Mis- 
'rovidence  are 
tly  happen,  as 
lament  at  the 
rounds  for  re- 
iew  this  mat- 
ve  known  the 
she  is  a  more 
sman,  than  for 

1,  and  the  oth- 
)oshanne,  say, 
10  bravely  de- 
he  risk  of  his 
rms  of  praise 
t>ird,  as  if  she 
but  you,  my 
udLces  which 
ans,  and  you 
er  may  be  her 
is,  after  all, 
and  as  such, 
my  guardian'ft 

sionary, "  &he 
ncrable  Dela- 
acre  which  I 
t  of  his  blood 
id  nurture  as 

measure  the 

"Were  it  not 
go  for  that  of 
ugh  the  prai- 

Lenape  tent 
education  fall 

settlements, 
s  of  instruc- 


Tlie  conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  a  negro  with  n  'Veshment,  preceded 
by  Dearskin,  bearing  in  liib  hand  a  bottle  of 
French  brandy,  of  which  hp  vaunted,  not  with- 
out reason,  the  excellent  quality  and  flavour ; 
but  Ethelston  continued  to  converse  in  an  un- 
dertone with  the  Miissionary,  his  countenance 
evincing  every  moment  increased  eagerness 
and  interest  in  the  subject  of  their  discourse, 
which  so  absorbed  his  attention,  that  he  never 
noticed  the  honest  boatman's  repeated  attempts 
to  call  his  attention  to  the  refreshment  which 
he  had  prepared.  Even  Paul  Muller  was  unable 
to  comprehend  this  sudden  change  in  his  man- 
ner, and  hia  vehement  desire  to  know  all  the 
most  minute  particulars  respecting  a  person  of 
whom  he  had  spoken  a  few  minutes  before  in 
terms  of  disparagement,  but  he  attributed  it  to 
the  interest  which  he  took  in  his  friend's  select- 
ed bride,  and  satisfied  hia  curiosity  to  the  best 
of  his  ability. 

When  all  his  many  and  rapidly  uttered 
questions  were  answered,  Ethelston  rose  from 
his  seat,  and  abruptly  took  his  departure,  say- 
ing, as  he  left  the  room,  "Thanks,  thanks,  my 
good  friends,  you  shall  see  jne  again  ere  long." 

"  Indeed,  I  care  not  much  how  long  it  may  be 
before  I  see  his  face  again,"  said  Bearskin, 
sulkily.  "  Here  have  I  been  bothering  myself 
to  make  Pompey  bring  up  these  cakes  and  fruits, 
and  I  have  opened  a  bottle  of  Father  Antin's 
best  brandy,  arrd  he  goes  off  without  tasting 
with  us,  or  so  much  as  taking  a  drop  to  wash 
down  the  ill  words  which  were  in  bis  mouth  a 
while  since !" 

"  Nay,  my  good  friend,"  replied  the  Mission- 
ary, "  be  not  hasty  to  censure  ^laster  Ethelston, 
for  he  is  a  true  and  zealous  friend  to  Reginald 
Brandon,  and  the  news  from  the  west  seems 
to  have  affected  him  with  much  anxiety  and 
alarm." 

"  That's  all  very  well  for  you  learned  folk," 
said  the  unpacified  boatman,  "  but  we  don't  do 
things  after  that  fashion  on  the  river-side  ;  and 
for  all  he's  the  son  of  an  old  friend  of  the  Colo- 
nel's, when  he  comes  this  way  again  he's  like  to 
hear  something  of  my  notion  of  his  manners." 

"  What  sort  of  character  bears  he  at  home!" 

"  Why,  to  tell  the  truth,  his  character's  in- 
different good ;  I  never  heard  of  his  bein'  rude 
or  oncivil-like  before." 

"Well,  then.  Bearskin,  if  he  comes  here 
apin.  give  him  an  opportunity  for  explaining 
his  sudden  departure,  before  you  take  or  express 
any  offence  at  conduct  of  which  you  may  not 
rightly  understand  the  motives— come,  my  good 
friend,  clear  your  brow,  and  let  us  partake  with 
gratitude  of  the  excellent  cheer  tliat  you  have 
provided." 

Thus  saying,  the  Missionary  placed  himself 
'With  his  companion  at  table,  and  the  ill-temper 
«f  the  latter  was  dispelled  by  the  first  glass  of 
Father  Antin's  cogniac. 

After  this  interview  with  Paul  Muller,  Ethel- 
ston pursued  the  business  which  had  brought 
him  to  St.  Louis  with  such  vigour  and  energy, 
that  at  the  close  of  a  week's  negotiation  he  was 
able  to  inform  Colonel  Brandon  that  by  sacrific- 
ing a  small  portion  of  the  disputed  claim,  he  had 
adjusted  the  matter  upon  terms  which  he  trust- 
ed his  guardian  would  not  consider  disadvanta- 
geous;  his  letter  concluded  thus :    V, 


"  Having  now  explained  these  transactions 
and  informed  you  in  another  letter  of  the  mel- 
ancholy fate  of  Mike  Smith,  and  some  of  his 
companions,  I  must  announce  to  you  my  inten- 
tion of  setting  off  immediately  in  search  of 
Reginald,  with  the  best-appointed  force  that  I 
can  collect  here,  for  I  am  seriously  apprehensive 
for  his  safety,  surrounded  as  he  is  by  roving 
tribes  of  Indians,  with  avne  of  whom  he  and 
his  party  are  at  open  war,  while  the  hand  of 
Delawares,  upon  whose  friendship  he  might 
have  relied,  is  almost  destroyed.  As  it  may  be 
a  work  of  some  time  and  difficulty  to  find  Regi- 
nald in  a  region  of  such  buuudless  extent,  I 
must  entreat  you  not  to  feel  uneasy  on  my  ac- 
count, should  my  absence  be  more  protracted 
than  I  would  wish  it  to  be,  for  I  shall  be  accom- 
panied by  Bearskin,  and  other  experienced  trap- 
pers ;  and  I  know  that  even  Lucy  would  have 
no  smile  for  me  on  my^  return,  if  I  came  back 
to  Mooshanne,  without  making  every  exertion 
to  extricate  her  brother  from  the  difficulties  in 
which  these  unexpected  incidents  have  involved 
him." 

By  the  same  post  Ethelston  wrote  also  to  in- 
form Lucy  of  his  resolution,  and  though  she  felt 
extremely  vexed  and  anxious  on  account  of  the 
lengthened  absence  which  it  foretold,  still  she 
did  him  the  justice  in  her  heart  to  own  that  he 
was  acting  as  she  would  have  wished  him  to 
act. 

Not  a  day  passed  that  he  did  not  consult  with 
Paul  Muller,  and  also  with  the  most  experienced 
agents  of  the  fur  companies,  in  order  that  he 
might  provide  the  articles  most  requisite  for  his 
contemplated  expedition,  and  secure  the  servi- 
ces of  men  thoroughly  trained  and  accustomed 
to  mountain  and  prairie  life. 

In  this  last  respect  he  was  fortunate  enough  to 
engage  a  man  named  Pierre,  a  half-breed  from 
the  Upper  Missouri,  whose  life  had  been  spent 
among  the  most  remote  trading-posts,  where 
his  skill  as  a'  hunter,  as  well  as  in  interpreting 
Indian  languages,  was  held  in  high  estimation. 
Bearskin,  who  was  almost  recovered  from  his 
wound,  and  from  his  short  fit  of  ill-humour  with 
Ethelston,  agreed  to  join  the  party,  and  the 
good  Missionary  resolved  to  brave  all  dangers 
and  fatigues,  in  the  hope  of  rejoining,  and  per- 
haps of  being  instrumental  in  rescuing,  his  be- 
loved pupil- 

With  unwearied  industry  anci  exertion,  Ethel- 
ston was  able,  in  one  week  subsequent  to  the 
date  of  his  letter,  to  leave  St.  Louis  in  search  of 
his  friend,  attended  by  eight  hardy  and  experi- 
enced men,  all  of  whom,  excepting  the  Miwion- 
ary,  were  well  armed,  and  furnished  with  ex- 
cellent horses,  mules,  and  every  necessary  for 
their  long  and  arduous  undertaking. 

Guided  by  Bearskin,  they  reached,  without 
accident  or  adventure,  the  site  of  the  desolate 
Lenap^  village,  in  the  Osage  country,  and  there 
fell  in  with  one  of  the  young  Delawares  detach- 
ed by  War-Eagle  to  observe  what  might  be 
passing  in  the  neighbourhood  :  from  this  youth 
they  learnt  that  War-Eagle  and  Reginald,  with 
a  small  party,  had  gone  westward  in  pursuit  of 
Mahegan,  and  that  the  larger  body  of  the  sur- 
viving Delawares  were  on  the  trail  of  the  more 
numerous  band  of  the  treacherous  Osages. 

Ethelston  wished  to  go  on  at  once  in  search 
of  his  friend,  but  the  youth  insisted  that  he 


loe 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


should  first  assist  his  band  in  taking  vengeance 
on  their  enemies.  Promises  and  threats  proved 
equally  unaTailing,  and  after  the  Missionary  had 
exhausted  all  his  eloquence  in  endeavouring  to 
promote  peace,  he  was  himself  compelled  to  as- 
sure Ethelston  that  his  only  chance  of  finding 
the  trail  of  his  friend  in  a  spot  so  intersected 
by  multitudinous  paths,  was  to  accede  to  the 
terms  proposed  by  the  Indian ;  he  concluded 
in  these  words : 

"  Doubtless  the  conduct  of  these  Osages  was 
blood-thirsty  and  treacherous.  I  cannot  deny 
that  they  deserve  punishment,  but  I  would  fain 
have  left  them  to  the  chastisement  of  a  higher 
power.  I  know,  however,  that  I  cannot  change 
the  notion  of  retributive  justice  entertained  by 
the  Indians ;  and  although  I  cannot  prevent  re- 
taliation, my  presence  may  soften  the  severiticK 
by  which  it  is  usually  accompanied ;  at  all  events 
I  will  not  shrink  from  the  attempt,  especially 
as  it  is  the  only  means  by  whi<;h  we  can  pos- 
sibly hope  to  trace  those  in  whose  safety  we  are 
so  deeply  interested." 

Ethelston  could  not  press  any  further  objec- 
tion, and  his  party,  under  the  guidance  of  the 
young  Delaware,  was  soon  in  rapid  motion 
upon  the  trail  of  the  larger  body  of  the  Osages, 
who  were,  as  it  may  be  remembered,  already 
pursued  by  a  band  of  Lenapc  warriors. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  second  day's  march, 
Ethelston  and  his  party  met  the  latter  returning 
in  triumph  from  a  successful  pursuit  of  their 
enemies,  whom  they  had  overtaken  and  sur- 
prised before  they  could  reach  the  main  body  of 
the  Osage  village.  The  attack  was  made  by 
night,  and  the  Delawares  had  taken  many  scalps 
without  the  loss  of  a  single  man ;  but  their 
number  was  not  sufficient  to  justify  their  re- 
maining in  the  neighbourhood  of  a  force  so  much 
superior  to  their  own,  so  they  had  retreated  to 
the  southward,  and  were  now  on  the  way  to 
.their  former  village,  where  they  intended  to 
perform  more  at  leisure  the  funeral  ceremonies 
due  to  their  aged  chief,  and  those  who  had  been 
killed  with  him,  and  to  appease  their  unquiet 
spirits  by  offering  at  their  graves  the  trophies 
taken  during  their  late  expedition.  A  few  of 
the  most  daring  and  adventurous  enti'eated  per- 
mission to  join  Ethelston's  band  in  his  search 
for  War-Eagle,  their  favourite  leader ;  nor  was 
ke  by  any  means  sorry  to  grant  their  request, 
justly  considering  the  addition  of  ten  well-arm- 
ed Lenap^  warriors  as  a  roost  desirable  rein- 
forcement to  his  party. 

As  soon  as  the  selection  was  made,  they 
separated  at  once  from  the  remaining  body  of 
Delawares,  and,  guided  by  the  youth  before 
mentioned,  threw  themselves  upon  the  trail  of 
Mah6ga  and  his  pursuers. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

The  Otagea  encamp  near  the  baie  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
talna. — An  anexpected  visitor  arrives. 

After  parting  with  the  Aricarfis,  Mah^ga 
^ravelled  westward  for  many  days  over  that 

'rren  and  desolate  region  lying  between  the 
sources  of  the  Platte  and  Arkansas  rivers,  with- 
out falling  in  v.rith  any  other  Indians ;  his  party 
was  guided  by  a  grim  and  scarred  warrior,  who 


had  been  on  several  hunting  excursions  to  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  in  tho  course  of  which  ba 
had  been  more  than  once  engaged  with  tho 
Shiennes,  Crows,  and  other  tribes,  whose  names 
have  of  late  years  become  familiar  to  the  gene- 
ral reader,  but-  who  were  then  known  only  to 
the  few  adventurous  spirits  who  had  pushed 
their  way  into  that  wild  and  dangerous  coun- 
try. 

Prairie-bird,  attended  by  her  faithful  Lita,  and 
mounted  on  her  high- mettled  and  sure-footed 
pony,  was  placed  near  the  centre  of  the  line  of 
march,  and  Mahegan  himself  always  brought  up 
the  rear,  that  being  the  post  usually  occupied  by 
an  Indian  chief  on  all  occasions,  excepting  when 
engaged  in  attack  or  pursuit  of  a  foe. 

The  maiden  seemed  to  have  resigned  herself 
composedly  to  her  captive  condition ;  and  if  sba 
still  harboured  thoughts  or  projects  of  escape,, 
none  could  detect  them  in  the  quiet  observant 
eye  with  which  she  noted  the  new  and  interest- 
ing objects  presented  to  her  view.  They  had 
already  passed  the  chain  of  hills  known  as  ths 
Ozark  range,  and  leaving  the  Black  Hills  to  tho 
northward,  were  crossing  the  sandy  elevated 
plain  which  lies  between  them  and  the  Rocky 
Mountains ;  the  sand  of  this  district  is  of  a  red- 
dish hue,  and  in  many  places  the  hollows  and 
small  ravines  are  incrusted  with  salt,  which 
gives  them,  at  first,  the  appearance  of  being 
covered  with  snow ;  large  masses  of  rock  salt 
are  also  of  frequent  occurrence,  and  give  to  the 
waters  of  all  the  smaller  tributaries  of  the  Upper 
Arkansas  a  brackish  and  briny  taste. 

One  evening,  a  little  before  sunset.  Prairie- 
bird  checked  her  horse,  to  enjoy  at  leisure  tho 
magnificent  panorama  before  her ;  and  even  tho 
suspicious  Mahega  forbore  to  interrupt  her  en- 
joyment of  its  beauties,  contenting  himself  with 
viewing  them  as  reflected  on  her  own  lovely; 
countenance.  To  the  northward  was  an  abrupt 
crag  of  sandstone  rock,  towering  above  the 
plain  over  which  the  party  were  now  travelling ; 
its  rugged  outline  broken  into  a  thousand  fis- 
sures and  reats,  probably  by  the  might  of  a 
rushing  torrent  in  by-gone  years,  frowned  like 
the  turrets  and  battlements  of  an  ancient  feudal 
castle,  and  the  maiden's  fanc^  (recurring  to- 
some  of  the  tales  which  had  found  their  way 
into  her  slender  library)  peopled  its  lofty  towers 
and  spacious  courts  below  with  a  splendid  host 
of  chivalry,  fairest  and  foremost  among  whom 
was  the  proud  and  martial  figure  of  Reginald 
Brandon !  , 

Brushing  a  teardrop  from  her  eye,  she  avert- 
ed it  from  the  castellated  bluff,  and  turned  it 
westward,  where  was  spread  a  gradually  as- 
cending plain,  covered  with  cedars,  pines,  and 
rich  masses  of  various  forest  growth ;  far  be- 
yond which  the  Great  Peak,  highest  of  the 
Northern  Andes,  reared  its  majestic  form,  the 
setting  sun  shedding  a  flood  of  golden  light 
upon  the  eternal  snow  reposing  on  its  crest. 
With  admiring  wonder.  Prairie-bird,  to  whom 
the  dread  magnificence  of  mountain  scenery 
was  new,  gazed  on  the  mighty  landscape  stretch- 
ed out  before  her ;  she  held  her  breath  as  the 
rays  of  the  sinking  sun  changed  the  golden  flee- 
cy haze  around  the  distant  peak  to  a  rosy  hue, 
and  soon  again  to  a  deeper  saffron  tint :  and 
when,  at  last,  it  disappeared  behind  the  rocky 
barrier  in  the  west,  Prairie-bird  covered  her 


THE  PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


w 


euraions  to  tbe 
e  of  which  ba 
aged  with  the 
s,  whose  names 
lar  to  the  gene- 
known  only  to 
iQ  had  pushed 
ingerous  coud- 

ithful  Lita,  and 
nd  sure-footed 
e  of  the  line  of 
ays  brought  up 
lly  occupied  by 
sxcepting  when 

foe. 

eaigned  herself 
ion;  and  if  sh» 
acta  of  escape,, 
luiet  obserrant 
w  and  interest- 
5W.  They  had 
I  known  as  th« 
ick  Hills  to  th0 
sandy  elevated 
and  the  Rocky 
riot  is  of  a  red- 
ie  hollows  and 
th  salt,  which 
ranee  of  being 
168  of  rock  salt 
and  give  to  the 
ies  of  the  Upper 
iste. 

unset,  Prairie- 
'  at  leisure  the 

;  and  even  the 
terrupt  her  en- 
ig  himself  with 
ler  own  lovely; 

was  an  abrupt 
ing  above  the 
low  travelling ; 

thousand  fis- 
le  might  of  a 
i,  frowned  like 

ancient  feudal 

(recurring  to- 
und  their  way 
ts  lofty  towers 
I  splendid  host 

among  whom 

e  of  Reginald 

sye,  she  svert- 
and  turned  it 
gradually  as- 
irs,  pines,  and 
owtb ;  far  be< 
ighest  of  the 
!i>tic  form,  the 
'  golden  light 
on  its  crest. 
)ird,  to  whom 
iitain  scenery 
Iscape  stretch- 
breath  as  the 
[te  golden  flee- 
to  a  rosy  hue, 
run  tint :  and 
ind  ihe  rocky 
covered  her 


eyes  with  her  hands,  as  if  to  enjoy  over  again 
in  memory  a  acffne  of  such  surpassing  beauty. 

"  Yes,"  she  exclaimed  half  aloud ;  "  many  o' 
the  works  of  man  are  wonderful,  and  the  fictions 
of  his  fancy  yet  more  marvellous,  even  visions 
such  as  rose  before  niy  imagination,  when  con- 
templating yon  rugged,  craggy  height,  hut  what 
p.re  they  when  compared  to  the  living  wonders 
of  creation  t  Almighty  Creator — merciful  Fa- 
ther !  Thou  hast  led  the  steps  of  thy  feeble 
and  helpless  child  to  this  wild  and  remote 
mountain  solitude !  it  is  filled  with  Thy  pres- 
ence !  Thou  art  her  protector  and  guide — her 
trust  is  in  Thee!" 

Mahega  gazed  with  awe  on  the  maiden  as, 
with  parted  lips,  and  eyes  upturned  to  the  glow- 
ing western  heaven,  she  seemed  to  commune 
with  some  unseen  mysterious  being;  and  the 
other  Indians,  watchful  of  their  leader's  coun- 
tenance, ^ept  at  a  respectful  distance  until  her 
short  reverie  was  past,  when  the  party  resumed 
their  march  towards  the  spot  chosen  for  the 
evening  encampment. 

The  journey  over  the  ascending  sandy  plain 
before  mentioned  occupied  several  days,  at  the 
end  of  which  they  reached  the  opening  of  a  fer- 
tile valley,  sheltered  on  three  sides  by  steep 
ridges,  well  covered  with  wood,  and  watered  by 
a  clear  stream ;  far  as  the  eye  coulo  reach,  the 
plain  to  the  southward  was  studded  with  vast 
herds  of  buffalos  grazing  in  undisturbed  securi- 
ty ;  the  timid  antelope  bounded  across  the  dis- 
tant prairie ;  and  as  the  travellers  entered  the 
valley  the  quick  eye  of  Mahega  detected,  on  the 
velvet  turf  stretched  beneath  the  northern  ridge, 
numerous  tracks  of  the  mountain  deer  and  of 
the  argali,  or  big-horn,  a  species  of  goat,  the 
chamois  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  found  gener- 
ally among  the  most  rugged  clifTs  and  precipi- 
ces ;  to  the  scenery  of  which  his  long  beard, 
bright  eye,  and  enormous  twisted  horn  give  a 
wild  and  picturesque  effect.  Mah6ga  was  so 
struck  with  the  singular  advantages  offered  by 
this  valley,  both  as  affording  a  sheltered  camp, 
ample  pasturage  for  the  horses,  and  a  plentiful 
supply  of  game,  that  he  resolved  to  take  up 
there  his  summer  quarters,  and  in  selecting  the 
spot  for  his  encampment  displayed  the  sagacity 
and  foresight  peculiar  to  his  character. 

About  a  mile  from  the  point  where  the  valley 
opened  upon  the  plain,  there  was,  at  the  base 
of  the  northern  ridge,  a  curved  and  secluded 
verdant  basin  of  turf,  the  entrance  to  which  was 
so  narrow  and  so  well  shaded  by  overhanging 
trees  that  it  was  not  visible  from  any  distance, 
and  could  not  be  approached  on  any  other  side, 
owing  to  the  precipitous  height  of  the  crags  by 
which  it  was  surrounded ;  on  an  elevated  peak 
or  promontory,  immediately  above  the  opening 
which  led  to  this  natural  lawn,  grew  a  number 
of  thick  massive  dwarf  cedars,  from  under  the 
shade  of  which  a  clear  sighted  man  could  com- 
mand a  view  of  the  whole  valley,  and  give  early 
notice  to  those  encamped  below,  of  the  approach 
of  danger.  Having  satisfied  himself  that  by 
posting  a  watchman  there  he  could  secure  him- 
self against  the  unperceived  attack  of  any  foe, 
Mahega  left  three  of  his  most  trustworthy  men 
in  charge  of  Olitipa,  and  having  despatched  the 
remainder  of  his  party  to  kill  buffalo,  proceeded 
to  make  a  careful  scrutiny  of  the  valley,  in  or- 
der to  ascertain  whether  there  were  signs  of 


I  Indians  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  whether,  in 
the  event  of  his  being  compelled  to  shift  his 
quarters,  he  could  find  any  defile  through  which 
it  might  be  practicable  to  effect  a  retreat. 

For  three  whole  days  he  pursued  his  search 
with  unremitting  toil,  during  which  time  be  as- 
certained that  there  were  no  visible  traces  of 
Indians  being  near,  and  that  three  miles  higher 
up  the  valley  thve  was  a  transverse  opening  in 
the  northern  ridge,  which  led  to  another  and  a  ' 
larger  valley,  through  which  flowed  a  river  of 
considerable  magnitude.  In  the  mean  time  Mie 
Osages  had  not  been  idle,  and,  although  little 
pleased  to  perform  menial  services,  such  as  are 
usually  lefi  to  their  women,  they  pitched  the 
tent  of  Olitipa  with  much  taste,  .it  the  foot  of  a 
huge  rock,  and  between  two  lofty  pines ;  next 
to  it  they  constructed,  at  a  distance  of  only  a 
few  yards,  a  lodge  for  their  chief,  by  stretching 
double  plies  of  buffalo  hide  over  bent  poles  cut 
after  their  fashion ;  and  again  beyond  that  they 
raised  a  larger  and  ruder  skin  lodge  for  them- 
selves ;  the  guitar  and  Ihe  few  moveables  be- 
longing to  Prairie-bird  were  carefully  piled  in 
her  tent,  and,  as  a  watch  was  stationed  at  the 
opening  to  the  valley,  she  was  free  to  wander 
as  she  pleased  among  the  trees  which  bordered 
the  edge  of  the  lawn  on  which  they  were  en- 
camped. 

"  Surely"  said  the  maiden,  casting  her  eyes 
upward  to  the  beetling  crags  above,  and  then 
letting  them  rest  upon  the  green  turf  at  her 
feet,  "  if  it  be  God's  pleasure  that  I  should  be  a 
captive  still,  he  has  granted  me,  at  least,  the 
favour  of  a  goodly  prison  wherein  to  dwell." 

She  observed,  with  gratitude,  the  change  that 
had  taken  place  in  the  demeanour  of  Mahega 
towards  herself;  so  far  from  being  harsh  or  vi- 
olent, he  was  respectful  in  the  highest  degree, 
and,  whether  the  change  was  owing  to  his  fears, 
or  to  more  creditable  motives  on  the  part  of  the 
Osage,  she  followed  the  advice  tendered  by  the 
missionary,  by  treating  him  with  courteous 
jentle'.iess.  Whenever  he  addressed  her  it  was 
li)  Delaware ;  and  her  perfect  familiarity  with 
that  tongue  rendered  it  easy  fur  her  to  make 
such  replies  as  the  occasion  might  demand, 
sometimes  ambiguous,  sometimes  mysterious, 
but  always  such  as  were  not  calculated  to  irri- 
tate or  offend  his  pride. 

Venison  and  buffalo  meat  abounded  ia  the 
Osage  camp,  the  choicest  morsels  being  al- 
ways set  apart  for  the  use  of  Prairie-bird ;  and 
Lita  gat.iered  for  her  various  kinds  of  berries, 
which  are  plentiful  in  that  region,  some  of  then 
resembling  the  gooseberry,  the  serviceberry, 
and  others  of  excellent  flavour;  there  was  also 
found  an  esculent  root,  called  by  the  Indians 
"  o-A«-no-mi,"  of  a  farinaceous  quality,  which 
the  Comanche  girl  had  often  seen  on  her  native 
plains,  and  from  which,  when  she  had  beaten 
and  pulverized  it  between  two  flat  stones,  she 
baked  a  kind  of  cake,  that  was  by  no  means  un- 
palateable. 

The  Osages  had  now  been  encamped  nearly 
a  week  on  this  pleasant  and  sheltered  spot,  di- 
viding their  time  between  their  two  favourite 
occupations  of  huntiiig  and  smoking ;  neither 
had  any  fresh  Indian  trail  been  discovered  to 
arouse  their  suspicion  or  their  watchfulness. 
Before  retiring  to  rest,  it  was  usual  for  Mahega 
to  come  before  the  tent  of  Prairie-bird ;  and 


i 


no 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


she,  aware  of  the  helplessness  of  her  >Jtuation, 
came  for'h  to  meet  him,  receiving  with  guarded 
courtesy  the  fine  compliments  which  he  thought 
fit  to  pay  her,  and  replying  in  a  tone  which,  al- 
though not  directly  encouraging  to  his  hopes, 
was  calculated  to  soothe  the  irritation  which 
her  former  treatment  of  him,  and  the  recollec- 
tion of  his  unsuccessful  struggle  with  Reginald, 
had  len  upon  his  mind.  * 

•  And  here  we  may  pause  to  ohsenre  how  the 
strange  contradictions  that  are  fuund  in  the 
human  character,  frequently  produce  a  line  of 
conduct  wliich  would,  at  first  sight,  appear  irre- 
concileahle  with  all  probability,  and  yet,  which 
is  in  strict  accordance  with  the  secret  workings 
of  the  wayward  will  hy  which  it  is  directed. 
Thus  Mah^ga,  when  he  first  bt^came  smitten 
with  the  beauty  of  Prairie-bird  in  the  Delaware 
camp,  wliere  she  was  surrounded  liy  friends 
and  protectors,  wooed  her  with  the  rough  im- 
petuosity of  his  nature,  and,  finding  his  advances 
rejected,  he  resorted,  as  we  have  seen,  to  brutal 
violence,  his  passion  being  so  much  heightened 
by  the  obstacles  which  it  encountered,  that,  in 
order  to  gratify  it,  he  provoked  that  quarrel 
with  the  Delawares  in  which  so  much  blood, 
both  of  his  own  people  and  of  his  allies,  had 
been  already  shed.  Now  that  he  was  trium- 
phant, and  felt  secure  of  the  person  of  his  cap- 
tive, a  new  and  ardent  desire  had  arisen  within 
him,  a  desire  to  compel  her  to  love  him.  In 
this  pursuit,  also,  his  proud  and  haughty  spirit 
led  him  to  anticipate  success,  and  thus,  for  a 
time,  the  darker  and  more  malignant  feelings 
of  his  bosom  slumbered  undisturbed. 

One  evening,  when  he  had  held  his  customary 
talk  with  Prairie-bird,  he  retired  to  his  lodge 
and  the  maiden  to  her  tent,  where  she  took  up 
her  long- neglected  guitar,  and  ran  her  fingers 
carelessly  through  its  strings.  Lita  sat  by  her 
side,  braiding  the  front  of  a  pair  of  moccassins 
with  stained  quills  of  the  porcupine,  and,  al- 
though neither  sigh  nor  tear  betrayed  her  feel- 
ings. Prairie-bird,  whose  heart  now  led  her  in- 
tuitively to  dive  into  that  of  her  companion, 
saw  that  sad  and  busy  thoughts  were  there ; 
the  Comanche  girl,  proud  and  reserved  as  she 
was  with  others,  had  been  won  by  the  gentle- 
ness of  her  mistress,  to  entertain  for  her  an  at- 
tachment, that  was  now  strengthened  and  ce- 
mented by  the  trials  and  dangers  which  they 
had  shared  together ;  it  might,  indeed,  be  sup- 
posed that,  as  both  were  now  captives  of  the 
chief  of  another  tribe,  the  relation  of  mistress 
and  servant  had  ceased,  yet  Lita  seemed  to 
think  otherwise,  and  her  attendance  upon 
Prairie-bird  was,  if  possible,  more  devoted  than 

•  before. 

><  Yn  whom  are  you  ornamenting  those  moc- 
cassins, Lita  1"  inquired  the  latter,  with  a  sad 
smile. 

■'  For  whom !"  repeated  Lita,  easting  ap  her 
dark  eyes,  and  fixing  them  on  her  mistress  as 
if  she  would  read  her  soul.  The  tone  in  which 
•he  exclamation  was  uttered,  and  the  look  by 
which  it  was  accompanied,  assured  Prairie-bird 
ihat  her  conjectures  were  well  founded. 

When  the  heart  is  full,  one  overflowing  drop 
lells  the  contents  of  the  golden  chalice ;  and 
from  the  two  words  spoken  by  her  companion 
Olilipa  gathered  her  meaning  as  well  as  if  she 
oad  Teplied,  **  Is  there  any  other  being  on 


earth  bat  one,  for  whom  I  <yn  be  braidinif 
tliemi" 

The  voice  of  Prairie-bird  trembled  with  a 
conscious  fellow-feeling,  as  she  said,  "  Lita, — I 
ask  nut  to  know  your  secret,  but  I  pray  to  the 
Great  Spirit  so  to  direct  the  steps  of  him  for 
whom  those  moccassins  are  made,  that  he  may 
receive  them  at  your  hands,  and  wear  them  for 
your  sake !" 

On  hearing  these  words  a  deep  blush  came 
over  the  face  and  neck  of  the  Comanche  girl ; 
a  word  of  kindness  had  touched  a  spring,  which 
in  her  wild  and  wayward  nature  would  have 
been  unmoved  by  fear  or  by  violence,  and  she 
threw  herself  into  the  arms  of  Prairie-bird, 
giving  vent  to  long-concealed  emotions,  in  a 
flood  of  tears. 

Scarcely  had  she  regained  her  composure, 
and  resumed  her  braiding,  when  the  quick  ear 
of  Praine-hird  caught  the  sound  of  a  low  chirrup, 
like  that  of  a  grasshopper,  close  at  the  back  of 
the  tent ;  she  remembered  to  have  heard  that 
signal  before;- the  blood  fled  from  her  cheek, 
and  she  held  her  breath  in  agitated  silence; 
again  the  sound  was  repeated,  and  Prairie-bird 
stole  to  the  corner  of  the  tent  whence  it  pro- 
ceeded, and  stooping  her  head,  said,  in  English, 
"  If  Wingenund  is  there,  let  him  speak." 

"  My  sister !"  whispered  the  soft  voice  of  the 
youth  in  reply. 

"  'Tis  he  !  'tis  my  dear  young  brother  him- 
self!" 

"  Is  all  quiet.  Prairie-bird  V'  ' '  ''  •  •  ' 

"  All  is  quiet." 

"  Then  Wingenund  will  pull  out  one  of  these 
tent-pegs,  and  creep  in  below  the  canvass, — he 
has  much  to  say  to  his  sister." 

In  spite  of  the  emotion  caused  hy  her  brother's 
sudden  appearance,  and  by  the  recollectioji  that 
if  discovered  his  life  would  certainly  be  forfeited. 
Prairie-bird  retained  sufficient  presence  of  mind 
to  continue  passing  her  fingers  through  the 
chords  of  her  guitar,  in  order  to  drown  the 
noise  made  by  Wingenund  in  removing  the  fas- 
tenings and  effecting  his  entrance  below  the 
tent.  Jtl  length  he  stood  before  her,  and  after 
gazing  sadly,  fondly  on  his  countenance  for  a 
few  moments,  she  fell  upon  his  neck  and  wept  I 
The  figure  was  indeed  that  of  her  favourite 
brother,  but  oh,  how  changed  since  she  had  last 
seen  him  !  Gold,  wet,  sleepless  nights,  fatigue 
and  hunger,  .<ad  all  combined  to  wear  and  ex- 
haust  a  frame  which,  although  east  in  Nature's 
fairest  and  most  graceful  mould,  had  not  yet 
reached  the  enduring  strength  of  manhood  ;  his 
(mce  gay  attire  was  soiled  and  ragged,  the  moc- 
cassins on  his  feet  were  of  undressed  bison- 
hide,  torn,  and  scarcely  aflfording  any  protection 
sigTtinst  the  stones  and  thorny  plants  with  which 
that  region  abounds ;  his  light  bow,  with  a  few 
arrows  still  hung  at  his  back,  and  the  hunting- 
knife  at  his  girdle ;  this  was  all  that  remained 
of  the  gay  accoutrements  with  which  he  had' 
been  adorned  in  the  Osage  village ;  yet,  al- 
though the  frame  was  emaciated,  and  the  cheeks 
sunken,  the  proud  lustre  of  his  eye  told  of  a 
spirit  unquenched  by  sufl^ring,  and  rising  supe- 
rior to  the  trials  which  had  almost  destroyed  its 
earthly  tenement.  Prairie-bird  longed  to  ask 
an  hundred  questions  in  a  breath ;  how  he  had 
come  1  whether  he  had  seen  or  learnt  anything 
of  War-Eagle  and  of  Reginald  ?  but  affectionate 


be  braiding 

ibled  with  a 
id,  "  Lita,— I 
[  pray  to  the 
s  of  him  for 
that  he  may 
ear  them  for 

I  blnah  came 
nnanche  girl ; 
spring,  which 

would  have 
nee,  and  she 

Prairie-bird, 
lotions,  in  a 

r  composure, 
the  quick  ear 
a  low  chirrup, 
t  the  back  of 
re  heard  that 
n  her  cheek, 
ated  silence; 
1  Prairie-bird 
hence  it  pro- 
d,  in  English, 
peak." 
I  voice  of  the 

brother  him- 


t  one  of  these 
canvass, — he 

IT  her  brother's 
eollectio;i  that 
ly  be  forfeited, 
sence  of  mind 
through  the 
drown  the 
Dving  the  fas- 
oe  below  the 
lier,  and  after 
tenance  for  a 
ck  and  wept  I 
her  favourite 

she  had  last 
ghts,  fatigue 
vear  and  ex- 
it in  Nature's 

had  not  yet 
aanhood ;  his 
g;ed,  the  moc- 
ressed  bison- 
ny  protection 
:8  with  which 
T,  with  a  few 
the  hunting- 
liat  remained 

hich  he  had' 
ge;  yet,  al- 
id  the  cheeks 
ye  told  of  « 

rising  su  lie- 
destroyed  its 
nged  to  ask 

how  he  had 
rnt  anything 

afTectionate 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


iir 


eompassion  for  her  young  brother's  sad  condi- 
tion overcoming  every  other  feeling,  she  said 
tu  him,  "  Dear,  dear  Wingenund,  you  are  wea 
ried  to  death,  sit  by  n  nd  rest;  yriu  are 
starved,  are  you  not  1" 

"  Wmgenund  has  not  ei'^en  for  two  days," 
replied  the  youth,  seating  himself  gently  at  his 
sister's  side. 

Fortunately,  more  than  half  of  the  evening 
meal,  apportioned  to  Prairie-bird  and  Lita,  re- 
mained untouched  in  the  tent,  and  the  latter 
instantly  set  before  the  youth  some  well-cooked 
cakes  and  bison-meat,  luxuries  such  as  had  not 
passed  liis  lips  for  many  a  day ;  and  having  also 
placed  a  vessel  of  water  within  his  reach,  she 
went,  with  the  intuitive  delicady  and  sagacity 
o(  her  sex,  towards  fhe  opening  of  the  tent,  so 
as  to  afford  Prairie-bird  an  opportunity  of  speak- 
ing unrestrainedly  to  her  brother,  and  at  the 
same  time,  to  secure  them  as  far  as  possible 
against  interruption.  Wingenund,  with  all  his 
heroic  patience  and  self-denial,  was  a  young 
half-starved  Indian,  and  the  delicacies  set  before 
him  vanished  in  a  few  minutes,  as  if  they  had 
been  placed  before  a  famished  wolf  Prairie- 
bird  offered  him  a  draught  of  water,  adding, 
with  an  affectionate  smill,  "  My  brother,  'tis 
well  that  there  is  no  more  meat,  a  full  meal  is 
dangerous  after  su  long  a  fbst !" 

"  It  is  enough,"  replied  the  youth  ;  "  Winge- 
nund is  well  now." 

*'  Tell  me,  then,  how  you  have  followed  to 
this  distant  region,  and  whether  you  have  seen 
anything  of  War- Eagle,  and  of— his  friends  i" 

"  Wingenund  has  seen  none,"  he  replied  ; 
"  nothing,  except  the  trail  of  Mah6ga,  and  that 
he  would  have  followed  to  tha  big  salt  lake,  or 
to  death." 

"  But  how  has  it  been  possible  for  you  to 
pursue  the  trail  undiscovered,  to  find  food,  and 
to  avoid  strange  Indians  on  the  path?" 

"  Wingenund  kept  far  behind  tho  Washashe  -, 
their  eyes  could  not  reach  him ;  he  has  left  on 
every  day's  trail  marks  that  War-Eagle  will 
know ;  they  will  speak  to  him  as  plainly  as  my 
sister's  medicine  book  tells  her  the  Great  Spirit's 
will.  He  will  come  soon  and  his  friends  with 
him." 

"  But  my  brother  has  not  told  me  how  he 
procured  food  on  this  toilsome  journey  V 

"  When  the  I^nape's  heart  is  full,  he  thinks 
little  of  food,"  replied  the  youth  proudly.  He 
added,  in  a  more  subdued  tone :  "  It  was  not 
easy  to  find  meat,  for  the  Washashe  had  driven 
the  bison  from  their  path,  and  Wingenund  could 
not  leave  their  trail.  Twice  he  has  met  bad  In- 
dians, who  tried  to  kill  him." 

"  And  how  did  he  escape  them,  being  with- 
out a  horse  1"  inquired  Prairie-bird. 

"They  were  too  many  for  him  to  fight,  and 
he  ran  from  them,  but  being  weak  with  hunger, 
one  Aricar&  overtook  him  by  the  waters  of  the 
Arkansas.  Wingenund  shot  him,  and  plunging 
into  the  river,  dived ;  and  the  others  never 
found  him ;  but  Wingenund  lost  his  rifle ;  and 
since  then  he  has  eaten  only  roots  and  fruit." 

The  simple  narrative  of  the  hardships  and 
sufferings  which  her  young  brother  had  under- 
gone for  her  sake,  and  which  his  emaciated  ap- 
pearance attested  but  two  well,  brought  fresh 
tears  to  the  eyes  of  Prairie-bird,  but  she  check- 
ed them  as  well  as  she  was  able,  and  said, 


"  Tell  me  yet  one  more  thing  ;  how  have  you 
been  able  to  reach  this  spot  unperceived  by  the 
Osage  watchmen  1" 

"  Wingenund  saw  from  far  the  camp  chosen 
by  Malioga  ;  he  saw  that  he  could  not  approach 
it  in  front ;  but  the  rocks  behind  arc  rough  and 
high  ;  he  made  a  rope  of  bark  and  grass,  climb- 
ed up  the  height,  and  let  himself  down  from  a 
pine-tree  above  the  tent ;  but  in  case  he  should 
be  discovered  and  killed  by  the  Osages,  he  has 
left  an  arrow  where  War-Eagle  is  sure  to  And 
it,  and  the  arrow  will  show  him  where  to  come." 

"  Dear,  dear  Wingenund,  you  are  indeed  a 
brother,"  said  the  maiden,  deeply  moved  by  the 
mingled  foresight,  patience,  and  devotion  that  he 
had  evinced.  "  You  are,  indeed,  a  worthy  son 
of  the  ancient  people." 

Here  she  was  interruped  by  a  shrill  cry ;  Lita 
was  at  the  same  instant  thrown  rudely  aside  by 
Mah^ga,  who  rushed  into  the  tent,  followed  by 
two  of  his  warriors.  Wingenund  sprang  to 
his  feet,  but  ere  In  could  draw  the  knife  from 
his  girdle  he  was  seized  by  the  Osages,  and  his 
arms  pinioned  behind  his  back. 

Dark  and  lowering  was  the  frown  which  the 
angry  chief  cast  upon  his  prisoner.  The  Del- 
aware youth  quailed  not  before  it ;  the  hour  of 
trial  had  arrived,  and  the  haughty  spirit  risinj^ 
within  him,  triumphed  over  \ll  that  he  had  un- 
dergone ;  all  that  he  knew  he  had  yet  to  under- 
go. He  drew  himself  to  the  full  height  of  his 
graceful  figure ;  and  fixing  his  bright  keen  eye 
fall  upon  Mahega,  awaited  his  fate  in  silence. 

"  Has  the  cunning  antelope  of  the  Delawares 
run  so  far  to  see  the  den  of  the  Black  Wolf  1" 
demanded  the  chief,  with  a  contemptuous  sneer. 
"  Has  the  buffalo  bull  sent  the  calf  on  a  path 
that  he  was  afraid  to  tread  himself  1  Have  the 
Lenape  girls  sent  one  of  their  number  to  carry 
wood  and  water  for  the  Washashe  warriors  1" 

Mahega  paused  ;  and  on  finding  that  his 
cowardly  and  brutal  jeers  called  forth  no  reply, 
nor  changed  a  muscle  on  the  haughty  counte- 
nance before  him,  his  anger  grew  more  ungov- 
ernable, and  he  exclaimed  in  a  voice  of  thun- 
der, "  If  the  cur-dog  will  not  bark,  the  whip, 
and  the  knife,  and  the  fire  shall  find  hira  a 
tongue!  If  he  wishes  not  to  be  torn  in  pieces 
on  the  spot,  let  him  say  what  brought  him  to 
the  Osage  camp,  and  where  he  has  left  War- 
Eagle,  and  his  pale-faced  friends !"  Neither  to 
the  threats  nor  the  inquiries  of  Mahega,  did  ^ 
Wingenund  deign  to  make  any  reply,  and  the  ' 
enraged  chief  struck  him  across  the  face  with 
a  heavy  bull-hide  whip  suspended  from  his 
wrist;*  the  blow  was  given  with  such  force 
that  it  laid  open  the  youth's  cheek,  and  a  stream 
of  blood  poured  from  the  cut.  At  the  sight,  of 
this  unmanly  outrage,  the  self-control  of  Prai- 
rie-bird almost  gave  way,  but  a  look  from  her 
brother  recalled  her  to  herself,  and  checked  the 
impulse  which  would  have  led  to  the  utterance 
of  entreaty  mingled  with  indignant  reproach. 

■>  Speak  not,  my  sister,"  said  the  hero  boy  in 
the  Delaware  tongue ;  "  speak  not  to  the  cow- 
ardly Washashe  wolf!  Waste  not  your  breath 
on  one  who  has  only  courage  to  strike  when  his 
enemy's  hands  are  tied  !" 

*  The  IniXans  In  the  Miamiirl  cimntantly  carry  a  short 
whip  of  bull,  or  cow-hide,  susiiendeil  finin  their  wrist, 
with  which,  when  in  pursuit  of  Imfluto,  or  any  other 
game,  they  lash  their  burses  most  uumcrclfUUy. 


''■M 


\'v 


119 


THE   PRAIRIE. BIRr» 


MaliAga  flxed  his  eyes  upon  the  maiden,  and 
a  sudden  thought  hghtcd  up  his  countenance 
with  a  gleam  of  niahgnant  triumph.  Approach- 
ing close  to  her,  he  said  in  a  stern  low  whisper, 
*'  To  morrow,  before  the  sun  goes  down,  Olitipa 
becomes  the  bride  of  Mahega,  or  that  b<iy  ia 
burned  at  a  slow  Hre  with  such  tortures  as  the 
Lenap^  never  thought  of  in  dreams  I"  So  say- 
ing, he  ordered  the  prisoner  to  oe  carefully 
guarded,  ami  leA  the  tent. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


.'* 


ITw-EtgU'i  PirtT  follow  the  Trsil.— A  SkirmUh,  uid  lu 
RmuUi.— Th*  Chief  unUtrttkH  ■  panlnui  Juunicy  kUino, 
■nii  hii  Compsnioiii  And  luflioltnl  OceuptUon  during  hit 

AbMDC*. 

NovwiTHSTANDiNo  (he  psins  that  Wingenund 
had  taken  to  leave  on  the  trail  such  occasional 
indications  as  might  assist  War-Eagle  in  follow- 
ing il,  ihe  progress  made  by  the  latter  was  much 
slower  Ihao  might  have  tiieen  expected  by  any 
one  who  knew  the  fierce  desire  of  vengeance  that 
burned  within  him.  Several  limes  did  the  impa- 
tience  of  Reginald  Brandon  vent  itself  in  words, 
which  he  addressed  in  an  undertone  to  Baptiste. 

"  I  tear  that  my  Delaware  brother  has  lost 
some  of  his  energies,  in  thi.'<  great  calamity 
which  has  befallen  his  tribe;  when  he  followed 
the  Dahcotah  trail  his  foot  was  light  and  swift, 
now,  when  more  than  life  and  death  may  hang 
upon  the  events  of  an  hour,  his  march  is  heavy 
and  slow  as  that  of  a  jaded  ox." 

"Master  Reginald,"  replieil  the  Guide;  "you 
do  the  War-Eagle  wrong.  A  trail  on  this  hard 
barren  region  is  not  like  one  in  the  prairies  of 
Illinoi.i,  or  Missouri,  where,  in  every  little  bot- 
tom, there  are  patches  of  long  grass  on  which  it 
is  marked  as  plain  as  a  high  road.  We  have 
passed  to-day  several  trails  of  strange  Indians, 
probably  Aricarasor  Upsarokas;*  had  the  War- 
Eagle  made  a  mistake  and  followed  one  of  these, 
we  might  have  wandered  several  days  before  we 
recovered  our  right  route ;  watch  his  eye,  it  is 
bent  on  the  ground,  not  a  blade  of  grass  escapes 
it;  he  has  not  time  for  a  word,  even  with  you." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,  Baptiste ;  vet  1  have 
now  studied  my  Delaware  brother's  counte- 
nance and  character  for  some  time,  I  have  seen 
him  under  the  influence  of  strong,  ay  of  deadly 
passion,  and  I  truly  wondered  at  his  self-control, 
out  there  seems  now  to  be  a  dull,  heavy  load 
upon  his  spirit,  as  if  it  were  overwhelmed." 

"  Look  at  vour  feet  this  moment,"  quoth  the 
Guide;  "and  tell  me  if,  on  this  hard  spot,  you 
can  trace  the  trail  on  which  we  are  moving." 

"  In  truth  I  could  not,"  said  Reginald,  looking 
down;  |'I  grant  our  friend's  sagacity  in  follow- 
ing it,  but  wliat  has  that  to  do  with  the  state  of 
his  mind  and  temper,  which  we  were  discuss- 
ing 1" 

*'  More,  perhaps,  than  you  think,  Master  Re- 

finald.  Along  this  very  path  the  steps  of  Ma- 
6ga  and  his  warriors  have  passed,  Ihe  hoofs  of 
the  horse  bearing  Olitipa  have  trod  it;  it  is  now 
broad  daylight,  yet  you  can  see  nothing;  do  you 
wonder,  then,  that  you  cannot  discern  the  trail  of 


*  Up<arok>,  the  Indian  name  of  the  trilw  niiitlly  detig- 
Dated,  in  llnckjr  Mountain  Trarels,  ai  the  "  Crowe,"  a  fierce, 
Toringf  nation,  who  were  then,  as  they  itiU  are,  at  deadlr 
enmity  with  their  neighboun  the  Blackleet.  andenee  with 
them  only  in  the  propenaity  to  plunder  or  kill  white  men, 
^whenever  opportuait j  oSon. 


the  thoughts  and  purposes  that  travel,  in  tk, 
dark,  over  the  heart  of  the  Delaware  1',' 

"Baptiste,"  said  Ittginuld,  smiling,  "I  »re>« 
that  vuu  were  a  skillul  hunter,  and  an  experi- 
enced woodsman,  hut  I  never  before  knew  that 
you  were  a  philo.sunher!" 

"Nor  I  either.  Master  Reginald;  but  perhaps 
1  may  not  be  one  atler  all.  What  is  a  philoso- 
pher r 

This  blunt  ouesiion,  from  the  sturdy  Guide, 
seemed  somewhat  puzzling  to  his  young  master, 
and  the  former  continued,  laughing,  "Well,  I 
suppose  it's  some  curious  kind  o  crittur  or  other 
that  we  never  heard  of  in  the  woods,  and  you 
don't  seem  to  have  met  it  often  yourself,  or  you'd 
not  find  it  so  hard  16  give  a  description  of  it  I" 

"  You  are  right,  Baptiste,  it  is  a  creature  not 
very  often  met  with,  either  in  the  woods  or  in 
civilized  life,  but  as  I  have  likened  you  to  it,  I 
am  in  duty  l>ound  to  describe  it  to  you  as  well  as 
I  ean.  A  philosopher  is  a  man  whose  desires 
are  moderate,  and  his  passions  under  due  con- 
trol; who  can  trace  human  actions  to  their  real 
motives,  and  effects  to  their  true  causes;  who 
can  read  the  character  of  others  without  preju- 
dice, and  study  his  own  without  self-partiality ; 
who  can  bear  prosperity  without  pride,  and  ad- 
versity without  repininf;— such  is  my  idea  of  a 
philosopher,  Ihe  sketch  is  rough,  but  sufficient 
to  give  you  some  notion  of  the  object  it.  view." 

The  Guide  was  silent  for  a  few  moments;  he 
took  off  his  hairy  cap  and  twirled  it  several 
times  round  in  his  bony  hand.«,  as  was  his  fre- 
quent custom  when  perplexed.  At  length  he  re- 
plied, "Well,  Master  Reginald,  If  that  be  what 
you  call  a  philosopher,  I'm  sure  War-Eagle  is 
more  like  one  than  I  am,  and  perhaps,  you'll  not 
take  offence  if  I  say  that  he  is  more  like  one  tiian 
you  are  yourself;  it  comes  natural  to  an  Ingian 
to  read  his  neighbour's  heart  and  hide  what 
passes  in  his  own.  And,  as  to  governing  his 
passions,  I  think  you  have  seen  enough  to  con- 
vince you  that,  although  they  were  as  hot  and 
wild  as  was  the  horse  which  you  bestride,  they 
are  now  as  obedient  to  the  bridle  as  Nekimi." 

"I  grant  it,"  said  Reginald,  reining  in  the 
proud  steed  alluded  to  in  the  Guide's  illustra- 
tion; "I  grant  it,  and  see  how  earnestly  oiu 
Delaware  friend  is  now  bent  upon  his  tasSc;  he 
has  made  a  signal  for  the  party  to  halt,  and  is 
stooping  to  examine  a  blade  oi  grass,  as  if  lifie 
itself  depended  upon  his  acute  sagacity." 

It  was,  indeed,  as  the  young  man  said;  the 
Delaware  chief  had  stooped  to  examine  a  bunch 
of  grass  by  the  side  of  the  trail,  in  which  his 
quick  glance  had  detected  a  small  object  which 
would  have  escaped  a  less  practised  eye;  with  a 
subdued  exclamation  of  surprise  he  seized  it, 
and  concealed  it  for  a  moment  in  his  hand,  a  ray 
of  animation  lighting  up  his  fine  countenance; 
it  was  but  for  a  moment,  his  features  almost  im- 
mediately relapsed  into  their  usual  melancholy, 
grave  expression;  and  drawing  near  to  Reginald, 
he  put  into  his  hands  a  small  golden  clasp,  say- 
in?, 

"  M V  brother,  War-Eagle  knows  it  well,  it  was 
given  by  the  Black  Father  to  Olitipa;  the  trail 
is  clear  as  the  irreat  white  pathway  of  heaven."* 

Reginald  took  the  clasp,  and  seizing  the  hand 
which  held  it,  he  pressed  it  in  silence  to  his 
heart;  he  had  marked  the  varying  expression  on 
War-Eagle's  countenance,  he  saw  now  a  mo- 


*  By  thif  name  the  milky  way  ia  known  among  lome  of 
the  ladias  tiibet. 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


arel,  In  ik, 

BlV 

ig,  "I  •>re>t 
il  an  eiperU 
e  knew  that 

but  perhaps 
is  a  philoso> 

urdy  Guide, 
sung  matiter, 
•g,  "Well,  I 
litur  or  other 
ids,  and  you 
■elf,  or  you'd 
Jonoffi!" 
creature  not 
woods  or  in 
1  you  to  it,  I 
ou  as  well  as 
rhose  desires 
der  due  con- 
to  their  real 
causes;  who 
Ithoui  preju- 
•ir-partfality ; 
ride,  and  ad- 
my  idea  of  a 
but  sufficient 
set  il.  view." 
moments;  he 
ed  it  several 
i  was  his  fre- 
t  length  he  re- 
that  be  what 
War-Eagle  is 
ipn,  you'll  not 
!  like  one  than 
to  an  Ingian 
id  hide  what 
governing  his 
iough  10  con- 
re  as  hot  and 
bestride,  ihey 
IS  Nekimi." 
eining  in  the 
lide's  illuBtra- 
earnestiy  oui 
I  his  UStC;  he 

0  halt,  and  is 
rass,  as  if  life 
acity." 

nan  said;  the 
imine  a  bunch 
in  which  his 
object  which 
ed  eye;  with  a 

1  he  seized  it, 
lis  hand,  a  ray 
countenance; 
res  almost  im- 
1  melancholy, 
ir  to  Reginald, 
ten  clasp,  say- 

I  it  well,  it  was 
tipa;  the  trail 
ir  of  heaven."* 
Izing  the  hand 
silence  to  his 
expression  on 
nr  how  a  mo- 

1  among  lOBW  of 


111 


Aent's  recollection  had  changed  the  sanguine  ex- 
ultation of  the  lover,  to  the  bud,  yvt  steudy  flrm- 
ness  ot  the  friend ;  and  his  heart  yearned  towards 
his  Indian  brother  with  an  uH'uctiun  that  words 
could  nut  express;  but  they  were  nut  needed; 
hi.'<  inuiiiened  eye  and  gluwing  cheek  spoke  vol- 
uioes  tu  his  triend,  and  War-Kugle  bounded  fur- 
ward  again  upon  (lie  trail.  Ins  spirit  excited  by 
un  incident  which,  though  hiignt  in  itself,  had 
:alled  turth  high  and  generous  emotions. 

A  lew  minutes  at\er  the  Delaware  had  resu- 
med his  post  UN  guide,  our  hero  purposely  tl'll  into 
the  rear  of  the  parly,  and  throwing  the  rein  loose- 
ly over  the  n<;ck  of  his  horse,  turned  the  precious 
golden  relic  over  and  over  between  his  fingers, 
and  pressed  il  a  thousand  times  to  his  lip;:i ;  the 
ground  over  which  they  were  travelling  was  a 
broken  series  of  ravines  or  ridges,  and  thus  he 
was  enabled  to  indulge  in  Ihe  extra  vagrant  en- 
dearmeuis  which  he  bestowed  unon  the  senseless 
trinket,  'without  being  exposed  to  .he*  curious 
eyes  of  his  fellow-travellers,  now  out  of  his  sight. 

He  was  aroused  from  his  reverie  by  a  terrific 
yell,  accompanied  by  a  sharp  sensation  of  pain, 
and  on  raising  his  eyes  perceived  at  once  that  he 
was  cut  off  from  his  party  by  a  mounted  hand  of 
Indians  one  of  whom  had  shut  an  arruw  through 
tlie  fleshy  part  of  his  thigh,  into  Ihe  flap  of  the 
saddle,  where  it  was  still  slicking.  Instantly  de- 
ciding that  it  was  better  to  trust  to  the  speed  of 
Nekimi,  than  to  the  desperate  chance  of  forcing 
his  way  through  the  Inaians  in  front,  he  struck 
the  steed  with  nis  heel,  and  turning  his  head  to- 
wards the  open  prairie  to  the  lelt  of  the  trail, 
went  olfat  full  speed,  followed  by  several  mount- 
ed warriora;  his  first  care  was  to  secure  (he 
clasp  within  his  hunting-shirt ;  his  next  to  exam- 
ine the  priming  of  his  rifle,  and  of  ihe  pistols  at 
his  saddle-bow;  finding  these  all  in  order,  he 
looked  round  at  his  pursuers,  who,  although 
urging  their  horses  by  yells  and  blows,  did  not 
gain  upon  Nekimi  even  when  going  at  an  ea-iy 
gallop. 

Ueossured  by  finding  Ihe  advantage  which  he 
had  over  his  enemies  in  the  speed  of  his  horse, 
Reginald  cut  the  arrow  where  it  pinned  his  leg 
to  the  saddle,  and  then  without  much  pain  or  di^ 
iicultv  drew  the  shaft  from  the  flesh.  Being  now 
satisfied  that  he  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the 
wound,  he  turned  the  head  ot  his  horse  in  a  di- 
rection parallel  to  Ihe  trail  on  which  his  party 
had  been  marching,  as  he  felt  that  his  ultimate 
safety  must  depend  upon  his  not  being  fteparated 
from  them. 

A  loud  yell,  followed  by  a  succession  of  rifle- 
shots, announced  to  him  that  the  attack  on  his 
friends  had  commenced ;  and  although'  the  bro- 
ken nature  of  the  ground  still  prevented  him 
from  seeing  them,  he  could  gather  from  the 
sound  that  they  were  at  no  great  distance ;  right- 
ly judging  that  they  must  be  anxi  -  respefing 
iiis  own  safety,  he  now  applied  h.^  lugle  t.-  lis 
lips,  and  blew  a  clear  blast,  which  Baptiste  imme- 
diately recognised  as  the  concerted  signal  for 
"  All's  well,"  and  cheerily  responded  to. 

The  Indians  in  pursuit  of  Reginald  reined  in 
their  horses,  and  stood  gazing  at  each  other  in 
astonishment,  at  sounds  which  had  never  before 
reached  their  ear,  and  all,  excepting  one,  wheel- 
ed to  rejoin  the  main  bodv  of  their  band;  he 
who  remained  was  evidently  a  chief,  or  princi- 
pal brave,  his  dress  was  splendidly  adorned  with 
scalp-locks,  eagle-feathers,  and  beads;  and  in- 
stead of  the  shaven  crown  and  single  tuftof  hai'' 
usually  worn  by  the  Pawnees,  and  other  Indians 


of  the  Platte  and  Missouri  region,  his  long  black 
hair  ilrvamed  over  his  shuulders,  and  lell  upon 
the  haunches  of  the  wild  spirited  courser  on 
which  he  was  mounted.  When  he  found  that 
tlic  number  of  his  enemies  was  reduced  to  a 
single  une,  Reginald  was  not  of  a  ttinper  to  con- 
sider flight  as  unv  lunser  necessary,  ku  he  check- 
ed tlie  speed  of  N(<kinil,and  trotting  to  tiie  sum- 
mit of  a  rising-ground  in  front  of  him,  saw,  at  a 
little  distance  in  the  ravine  below,  the  skirmish 
that  was  still  continued  between  his  friends  and 
the  attacking  party. 

But  he  was  not  long  permitted  to  remain  an 
idle  spectator,  lor  the  Indian,  having  recovered 
from  the  surprise  occasioned  bv  the  bugle-call, 
was  again  approaching  him  al  full  speed;  Regi- 
nald turned  his  horse  towards  his  assailant,  and 
deliberately  raising  his  rifle,  waited  until  the 
latter  should  be  near  enough  to  afford  him  a  cer- 
tain aim ;  but  the  Indian  observing  his  cool,  de- 
termined bearing,  and  having  some  experience 
of  the  dangerous  nature  of  the  white  man's  weap- 
on, suddenly  wheeled  his  horse,  and  galloped  to 
and  fro  in  a  zigzag  direction,  sometimes  advan- 
cing, sometimes  retreating,  with  a  rapidity 
that  left  Reginald  in  doubt  whether  he*  were 
meditating  an  attack,  or  desirous  only  of  ex- 
hibiting his  wonderful  powers  of  horsemanship. 

These  doubts  were,  however,  soon  resolved ; 
for  in  one  of  these  swift  evolutions,  when  passing 
the  spot  where  Reginald  stood,  at  a  distance  of 
fifty  yards,  the  Indian  suddenly  threw  himself 
half  off  his  home,  and  han^ingover  its  side,  dis- 
charged from  under  theanimat's  neck  an  arrow, 
which  whizzed  close  by  Re^nald's  ear;  then, 
when  he  was  himself  out  ot  shot,  resumed  his 
seat  in  the  saddle,  and  again  wheeling  his  horse, 
prepared  to  repeat  a  manceuvre  which  had  so 
nearly  been  attended  with  success. 

On  this  .second  occasion  Reginald  was  resolv- 
ed to  try  his  chance  with  Ihe  rifle,  and  when  his 
enemy,  emboldened  by  the  quiet,  and  apparently 
surprised  demeanour  of  the  white  man,  threw 
himself  again  over  Ihe  side  of  his  horse,  and 
came  within  a  nearer  range,  our  hero  levelled 
his  rifle  at  the  animal,  whose  body  shielded  com- 
pletely that  of  his  opponent,  and  the  ball  taking 
effect  behind  the  shoulder,  both  horse  and  man 
rolled  upon  the  grass. 

Reginald  sprung  from  his  saddle  and  hastened 
to  the  spot,  hoping  to  secure  the  Indian  while 
still  encumbered  by  the  fallen  horse,  but  the  ac- 
tive savage  leaped  upon  his  feet,  and  not  having 
time  to  fu  an  arrow  to  the  string,  struck  a  fu- 
rious, but  unsuccessful  blow  at  the  young  man's 
head  with  his  bow,  then  uttering  his  war-cry, 
rushed  upon  him  with  a  long  sharp  knife  that  he 
had  drawn  from  his  belt ;  but  the  Indian  had 
mistaken  both  the  skill  and  strength  of  the  oppo- 
nent with  whom  he  thus  rashly  endeavourecl  to 
close,  and  in  a  moment  Reginald's  cutlass  was 
buried  in  his  chest.  In  vain  he  summoned  all 
his  remaining  strength  to  strike  a  last  blow,  both 
hand  and  eye  refused  their  aid,  and  he  fell  heavi- 
ly forward  upon  the  grass ;  Reginald,  sheath- 
ing his  cutlass,  knelt  by  the  side  of  the  wounded 
man,  and  strove  to  staunch  the  blood;  but  his 
etfoiis  were  fruitless,  the  lungs  were  pierced,  and 
it  was  evident  that  death  was  fast  approaching. 

The  Indian,  still  conscious  of  what  was  pass- 
ing around,  and  mon>°ntarily  expectingthe  scalp- 
knife  upon  his  forehead,  the  usual  fate  of  the 
conquered  among  those  of  his  race,  gazed  in 
surprise  upon  the  countenance  of  the  young 
man,  who  was  now  tending  him  with  compas- 


m 


114 


THE    PRAIHIH-OIKD. 


iilonale  anxiety ;  ibey  could  not  interchange  a 
wurd;  the  Indian  I'eeljly  raiited  hlit  hand  tu  his 
head  with  an  Inquiring  iuoli,  and  then  pointed 
to  the  Icnile ;  KcKinald  sliouk  his  head,  at  tt  to 
intimate  that  lie  need  tx;  under  no  upprchenHion 
of  that  indignity,  and  then  continued  his  earnexl, 
but  ineflectual  endeavourii  to  ittaunch  the  flow- 
ing blood,  while  the  suOerer'a  head  rested  upon 
hiiihould.'r, 

During  this  time  not  a  groan  escaped  from  the 
lips  of  the  savage  warrior;  but  feeling  his  end  at 
hand,  he  gathered  his  dying  energies,  and  taking 
from  his  neck  the  inagniliccnt  collar  which  he 
wore,  made  from  the  claws  of  a  grizzly  bear, 
bound  together  with  skins  of  snow-wliite  er- 
mine, he  gave  it  to  Reginald,  maUin^  him  a  sign 
that  he  sh6uld  wear  it,  then  supporting  himself 
in  a  sitting  pooturo  by  the  end  ol  his  bow,  which 
he  had  caught  up  from  the  ground,  and  with  his 
eye  steadily  fixed  upon  the  xnow-clad  peak  now 
visible  in  the  western  horizon,  the  prairie-war- 
rior breathed  his  lest. 

As  soon  as  Reginald  was  assured  that  life 
was  extinct,  he  stretched  the  unconscious  limbs, 
closed  the  eyes,  gathered  the  massive  hair  over 
the  rigiii  countenance,  and  arranged  the  arms 
and  accoutrements  decently  beside  the  fallen 
chiei\ain,  knowing  well  that  it  would  not  be  long 
before  the  body  was  borne  off  by  those  of  his 
own  tribe.  There  was  neither  exultation  nor 
triumph  on  the  young  man's  countenance,  as  he 
looked  from  the  lifeless  form  of  his  liite  adver- 
sary to  thot  of  the  steed,  which  lay  dead  beside 
him,  on  which,  not  many  minutes  before,  he 
was  careering  over  his  native  plains  in  the  pride 
and  vigour  of  manhood ;  he  felt  that  the  strength, 
the  activity,  the  courage  of  the  savage  warrior, 
were  equal  to  his  own;  that  it  had  depended 
upon  a  single  succes.sful  thrust  whether  of  the 
two  should  be  now  taking  his  last  uncoflined 
slee|)  in  the  wilderness.  Sad  thoughts  of  his 
waiting  mother  and  sister,  musings  on  the  fate 
of  Prairie-bird  stole  upon  his  heart,  and  he  con- 
tinued gazing  almost  unconsciously  on  the  body 
of  the  Indian,  until  he  was  aroused  by  a  shrill 
blast  from  the  bugle  of  Baptiste;  the  signal- 
blast  was  "  Beware ;"  and  casting  his  eyes 
around,  he  saw  that  the  band  of  Indians  who 
had  been  skirmishing  with  War-Eagle's  party, 
were  advancing  at  full  speed  to  the  spot  where 
he  stood.  His  spirit  rekindled  by  this  fresh  ex- 
citement, he  caught  up  his  rifle,  and  vaulting  on 
the  back  of  Nekimi,  gave  him  the  rein.  The 
pursuers  soon  found  that  their  chance  of  over- 
taking him  was  hopeless,  and  while  they  gather- 
ed round  the  body  of  their  fallen  chief,  Reginald 
rejoined  his  party,  who  received  him  with  a 
shout  of  triumph  t'^at  reached  the  ears  of  the 
mourners  on  the  fa   prairie. 

As  Reginald  dismounted  and  walked  gravely 
through  the  group  to  salute  War-Eagle,  every 
eye  was  fixed  upon  the  bear-claw  collar  around 
his  neck,  and  he  received  the  silent  homage 
which  Indian  warriors  pay  to  successful  valour. 

There  was  also  a  (juiet  di^  ified  modesty  in 
the  young  man's  'oearingand  demeanour,  which 
did  not  escape  their  observant  and  approving 
eyes.  "  My  brother  is  welcome,"  saia  War- 
Eagle,  extending  his  haiH  to  greet  his  friend; 
"he  has  killed  a  gre. '  chie.'";  vhen  the  warriors 
tell  their  deeds  at  the  wa:  Qance,  the  tongue  of 
Netis  will  not  be  silent." 

"  The  red-man  of  the  nra'!-!?  ~as  brave,"  re- 
plied Reginald;  "he  died 'iki^ f  v-rrior.  t  trust 
his  spirit  is  gone  to  the  h^iipy  'acd." 


I     "  Master  Reginald,"  said  the  guide,  thruslins 

hi.i  large  bony  hand  into  that  of  our  hero,  "it 

\  did  my  heart  good  t<>  see  the  Ingian  full ;  ha 

Nprang  u|H)n  yuu  like  a  tiger,  and  I  feared  he 

iiilglit  catch  you  unaware.>i. 

"No,  liaptiste,  no;  he  was  a  gallant  fellow, 
and  I  am  tnilv  sorry  that,  in  self-uefeiK  c,  I  was 
obliged  to  kill  him,  but  the  odvanlUKcs  were  all 
on  my  side.  Nekimi  was  far  swilir>  than  his 
horNcj  and  his  knife  was  no  match  Kir  my  cut- 
lass. Do  you  know  to  what  tribe  lie  and  bis 
party  belonged  1" 

"  Capole-Iileu,  Master  Reginald,  this  is  th« 
first  time  you  have  seen  Lcs  C<rrbtaux—\1  psa- 
roka  they  call  themselves;  they  are  a  wild  race." 
And  he  added,  in  a  lower  tone,  "We  shall  see 
more  of  them  belbre  we  go  much  farther." 

"In  the  {.kirmish  which  they  had  with  you, 
were  any  wounded  on  either  sideT' 

"  Not  many,  for  the  rascnis  galloped  about  iti 
such  an  luiaccuuniable  flurry,  it  wasn't  easy  to 
make  sure  work  with  the  rifle;  but  the  doctor 
scored  the  ribs  of  one,  and  I  think  Wnr-Eagle 
.struck  another;  they  kept  at  a  very  unfamiliar 
distance,  and  their  arrows  were  as  harmless  as 
snow-flakes." 

"  How  fared  it  with  Monsieur  Perrot  1"  in- 
quired Reginald,  who  saw  the  light-hearted  valet 
grinning  with  sntisfuction  at  his  master'.s  victory 
and  safe  return;  "did  he  not  trv  his  skill  upoB 
any  of  these  marauding  Crows  1" 

"Well,  I  hardly  know,"  said  the  guide. 
"  Master  Perrot  is  like  ihe  bear  in  the  tree,  he 
fights  very  well  when  he  can't  help  it:  but  I  con- 
ceive he  s  not  over-fond  of  the  redskins  ever 
since  that  Dahcntah  handled  his  wig  so  roughly ! 
What  say  you.  Monsieur  Perrot  1" 

"  Monsieur  Baptiste  is  not  altogether  wrong," 
replied  the  good-humoured  valet;  "if  one  of 
those  red  Corbeaux  come  very  near  to  peck  me, 
I  do  my  best  to  pluck  his  feathers  out;  but  I 
much  rather  see  a  fat  partridge  or  capon  than 
one  of  them !" 

The  conversation  Itetween  the  Frenchman  and 
the  guide  was  interrupted  by  War-Eagle,  who 
made  a  sign  to  the  latter,  as  well  as  to  Regi- 
nald, that  he  sv  ,lied  to  speak  with  them  apart. 

"Brother,"  :>aid  the  Chief,  addressing  eur 
hero,  "the  Upsarokas  are  many;  their  warriors 
are  Ilk'?  tlie  bison  herds;  they  will  soon  return 
to  our  pnth,  we  must  be  ready  for  them.  What 
is  my  brother's  counsel  1" 

" Baptiste,"  said  the  young  man,  "you  have 
more  experience  in  these  matters  than  I  have ; 
speak  first." 

The  Guide  did  not  reply  immediately;  he 
bent  his  eyes  upon  the  ground,  and  his  fingers 
rested  on  the  head  of  the  massive  hatchet  from 
whence  he  derived  his  Indian  name.  When  he 
spoke  it  was  with  slow  but  decisive  enunciation. 
"  War-Eagle  has  spoken  truly,  the  Crows  will' 
return  in  greater  numbers ;  they  will  seek  re- 
venge for  the  death  of  their  chief;  t)  y  ,irp 
brave,  but  thei  •  arms  are  bad— we  are  tew,  out 
our  weapons  can  do  service.  My  cop',  .1  »s 
that  we  choose  a  strong  camp  and  av  ,  ii  tin  V 
coming;  we  will  then  handle  them  so  Uiat  they 
shall  not  desire  to  interrupt  us  again,  or  perhaps 
they  may  ofier  tj  make  a  treaty  upon  our  own 
terms." 

"Tne  words  of  Grande-Hflche  are  wise,"  re- 
joined the  Chief;  "  he  does  not  waste  his  breath 
in  blowing  against  the  wind.  What  says  my 
brother  Netis  1" 

"  He  says,"  replied  Reginald,  with  his  char- 


'I 


Tin:   PUAIIUH-IUKU. 


115 


ncleHiitic  lmpciuo»ity,  "  ilmt  the  cutiiiKel  (if 
(iiande-HAclie  inny  be  gomi  I'ur  uiir  uwit  kulviy, 
but  it  will  nut  l>riii|{  un  nciiicr  to  Mulit'Kn.  Nc- 
tlK  would  tullow  tliu  UiiiiKe  truil  iu  *\iM  ol  ail 
the  CruwD  b«iweoii  the  i'latte  atid  the  Muuiii- 
aini." 

"  My  brother  Hpeaks  like  a  warrior  witliout 
fear,"  tald  the  CInct'  in  reply;  "yet  we  cannot 
follow  the  trail  ol'  the  Wu'iliu»he  while  fi((liiinK 
by  day  and  by  nlitli'  '  iili  the  Upsaruka.  War- 
hagle  vill  join  tin  in»el  ot  Urande-HAclie  lu 
thiit  ' ''  r<«tia.  Lei  ^a  clioo:ie  a  .strong  camp, 
bri.ia  In  plenty  ol'  nieat,  and  prepare  lo  receive 
.!.u  Ijpsarokn.  1  will  bteal  awiiy  iilune  In  the 
nigiit.  I  will  follow  the  trull  ot  Muluxa,  and 
return  lo  tell  my  brother  what  1  have  »een.  It 
ii  enough.  1  have  spoken," 

Both  the  Uuiilu  and  UeKinaUl  approved  the  | 
Chief*  deci.siun;  and  ulihou((h  our  lieru  would 
rather  have  accom|ianied  him  on  the  trail,  he 
I'eit  that  he  would  impede  the  pro^res^  of  his 
Indian  brother,  whose  fluetnesii  of  loot  wan  »o 
much  greater  than  liin  owr  .  he  iherelbre  acqui- 
esced with  cheerfulni;..'^,  nii  1  they  set  forward  lo 
select  a  camp  i'  >  iiioiiii  vuite  the  odvaniage»i 
of  a  defensi*' '  p  <'iji  lo  >  <  .  e  of  a  plentitui 
sunply  of  \  I'T. 

Kor  siivor.tl  honr^  'War-'.'ngle  pursued  the 
Osa?  tmil  "  iti '  i  halting,  but  his  keen  eye 
rov 'i  o'ca^ionally  Iroin  side  to  side  in  search 
(if  fnvouralile  for  encampment,  while 

Pl^  11. 1  1  and  Bapiisie  brought  up  the  rear  of 
the  i^'trty ;  the  furmer  mounted  on  Nekiini,  pre- 
pared to  gallop  Ibi  ivnrd  to  the  front  nnd  give  the 
alarm,  in  casu  ol  the  reappearance  of  the  ma- 
rauding Crows.  About  an  hour  before  sun.set 
they  reached  a  valley  watered  by  a  small  stream, 
the  taste  of  which  proved  refreshing,  and  f'fe 
from  the  salt  with  which  that  region  abounua; 
to.nr  the  centre  of  the  vallt-y  was  a  thick  copse 
of  alder  and  willow,  covering  a  space  of  fil'ty  or 
sixty  yards  square.  On  Ibrcing  his  way  through 
the  outer  bushes,  War-Eagle  Ibund  an  open  plot 
of  fine  level  turf,  entirely  surrounded  by  the 
copse  which  sheltered  it  from  view  on  all  sides. 

The  Delaware,  having  brought  his  party  into 
this  natural  encampment,  and  picqueied  the 
horses  within  the  space  above-mentioned,  made 
a  careful  examination  of  the  thicket,  in  which 
he  was  accompanied  by  Reginald  and  Baptiste; 
they  then  selected  the  points  from  which  they 
could  best  command  the  approaches  from  dif- 
ferent quarters;  at  these  tney  piled  logs  and 
branches  matted  with  grass  ana  turf,  from  be- 
hind which  secure,  though  slight  breast-work, 
they  could  take  deliberate  aim  at  any  hostile 
party  approaching  from  the  prairie.  Before 
dusk  their  preparations  were  complete:  the 
-watch  was  set,  and  the  remainder,  after  a  frugal 
supper,  forgot  the  fatigues  of  the  day  in  sleep. 

The  night  passed  without  the  occ  irrence  of 
any  al;irm;  and  an  hour  before  day iight,  'War- 
Eagle  arose  nr'.'  prepared  himself  'r  his  peril- 
I.  '  ;iedition,  alter  the  ancient  ta-^hion  of  his 
tijje;  a  fashion  which  the  Dela wares,  in  com- 
mon with  most  of  the  semi-civilized  Indians, 
have  in  these  modern  days  neglected,  if  not  Ibr- 
gotten. 

Having  smeared  himself  fmm  head  to  fool 
with  an  ointment  made  Crcr-  the  I'nt  and  mar- 
row of  deer,  he  painted  his  la*  aoi'  "^e-t  with 
stripes  of  a  darlc  colour,  purposelv  r^iakiiig  ilie 
form  and  device  to  resemble  those  ni  ili«»  MU- 
sourian  nations.  He  wore  upon  hi*  li'«s  a  lishi 
pair  of  deerskin  leggins,  without  oruament,  sup 


pur '  d  at  ilie  waist  by  hi^  belt;  Irom  the  Inter 
u.  ''K|)fii(lt''l  on  one  siilu  liis  lomaliiiwk,  on 
ilic  I '  r  lii>  liiiile ;  he  ul>o  hiuck  inin  it  a  biara 
ol  luiiiled  piMdiN  given  lo  liiiii  by  llv(;iniild,  ami 
witliin  ilie  luKIs  secured  some  bullets  mid  chargea 
of  puwilui',  us  well  ns  a  lew  »lices  of  dried  buf< 
liiluui''ai;  his  thiui|i,  chest,  and  a  hum  wertt 
iiiikcil,  V  li  Ihe  exceiition  of  u  Miiall  light 
bluiiltoi,  \vt.<'  h,  when  thrown  across  his  shoul- 
der, did  not  111  liii.'  least  im|iede  the  free  exercis* 
eiltiur  !•<  his  Uunds  i"  leet.  As  s}R<ed  was  now 
his  cliK  f  iitiit^ci,  h«  leU  >>'>ih  Ills  rille  and  hiit 
lieavy  wai  (iiii.  .n  the  charnu  v,.  Hi-a'mM,  whu 
loolti'l  uii  Willi  iiiiiijiii^d  feeling-i  o  liiiiraiion 
und  envi  while  hi>  ni'-  was  piL'|i.i  mg  for  bis 
sulitaiy  jii  uiey.  Kiiuwn.u  iliat  ^V .•  r-liagU-,  if 
successiui  in  his  undertaking,  won  '  see  the 
I'rairie-liiid,  he  lon|.(''d  lo  send  by  hiin  a  i^khi- 
sand  iiu'ssuges  of  love,  yot  he  remembered  .i  i 
resjiecied  the  leelings  of  his  friend,  and,  cou- 
trolling  Ills  own,  embraced  him  in    ilence. 

As  Wiir-Eagle  was  about  to  di.|  ,  IteginaK/ 
was  surprised  at  seeing  him  altavli  his  brtt  u 
small  bunch  of  featliers,  carefully  lii  ugelhtr, 
and  he  iinngined  that  they  iiiight  l"  '  sumu 
measure  connected  with  his  Indian  lui  ci's  to- 
tem, or  heraldic  designation,  but  the  laiter  re- 
solved his  doubts  by  saying  to  him  and  to  Bap- 
tiste, 

"  War-Eagle  will  follow  the  trail  of  Wash  - 
she  as  swifiTy  as  his  feet  can  run;  whenever  i 
is  diliicult  to  find,  or  divides  in  a  tbrk,  he  wi  1 
stick  one  of  these  small  feathers  in  the  grass ; 
let  'Alio'  follow  first  on  the  trail;  lie  has  been 
often  on  the  wur-patb,  and  his  eyes  are  good ; 
Grande-H&che  with  his  long  rifle  should  cume 
next— let  my  brother  go  last  with  Nekimi,  and 
let  him  always  have  eyes  in  his  back;  Ihe  Up- 
sarokas  are  cunning,  and  the  wives  «f  a  dead 
chief  are  lamenting.  If  War-Eagle  lives,  he 
will  return  quick  and  meet  his  brothers  on  th'i 
trail;  if  he  is  killed,  he  will  meet  them  aAer- 
wardt)  in  the  Acids  where  his  fathers  hunt.  Fare- 
well." So  saying,  the  Delaware  chief  pointed 
impressively  to  the  distant  ridge  of  the  moiut- 
ains,  and  leA  the  encampment. 

After  the  departure  of  War-Eagle,  Reginald 
busied  himself|  with  the  aid  of  Baptiste,  iu  ma- 
king further  preparations  aeainst  the  expected  at- 
tack. On  inquiring  of  the  latter,  he  learned,  wiitt 
much  satisfaction,  that  Attu  or  A-tu  (Angtieif 
"  The  Deer,")  who  had  been  designated  by  the 
chief  as  leader  on  the  trail  in  his  absence,  was« 
tried  and  experienced  warrior.  His  appearance, 
indeed,  was  not  much  in  his  favour,  for  he  was 
small  and  spare  in  stature,  and  hi.s  features, 
though  not  positively  ugl^,  were  stern,  and  rare* 
ly  lighted  up  by  expression ;  his  eye  was  pier' 
cing  rather  than  brilliant,  and  he  scarcely  e»M 
spoke,  excepting  in  reply  to  a  question.  His 
swiftness  of  foot,  which  was  almost  equal  to  that 
of  War-Eagle  himself,  had  procured  lor  bint  the 
appellation  by  which  he  was  known  In  the  tribe. 
It  should  however,  in  justice  to  him,  be  menti(m- 
ed,  that  he  seldom  ran  from  an  enemy,  fcut  hi» 
courasje  was  proverbial,  and  in  a  fcrincr  (ti])ed»- 
tion  against  tneDahcoiahs,  he  had  made  several 
escapes  so  extraordinary,  that  his  comrades  had 
given  him  a  name  consisting  of  sixtaen  or  sev- 
enteen syllables,  which  we  will  not  inflict  ofKin 
civilized  eyes  or  ears,  hut  which  sifjnifies, "  The- 
man-Vho-cannot-be-killed-by-an-arrow." 

Reginald  finding  that  Attawns  familiar  with 
tiie  English  tongue,  and  desirous  to  be  on  good 
leriiis  with  his  new  officer,  addressed  him  as  fidt- 
kiws  : 


i| 


ri6 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


"  Does  Atto  think  that  the  Unsaroka  will  come 
to-day  1" 

"  They  will  come." 

"Will  ihey  attack  us  in  this  position T' 

"Perhaps;  the  Upsarokas  are  fools — they  do 
not  know  the  Lenapc." 

"  Are  you  satisfied  with  the  arrangements  we 
have  made  for  the  defence  1" 

"Yes;  but  you  should  let  the  horses  feed  out- 
side, with  a  guard,  or  they  will  soon  eat  up  the 
grass  within;  it  will  be  time  enough  to  drive 
them  in  when  the  Upsaroka  come." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Reginald,  frankly,  and 
he  ordered  it  to  be  done  immediately. 

Savages  are  extremely  like  ourselves  in  all 
that  concerns  the  internal  workings  of  self-re- 
spect; and  if  Reginald  already  stood  high  in  At- 
to's  opinion  for  his  courage  and  bodily  advanta- 
ges, the  Indian  was  disposed  to  think  more  high-' 
Jy  of  him  when  he  found,  even  in  a  matter  so  tri- 
nir^  ;■  i  the  young  man  listened  to  and  follow- 
ed his  counsel. 

The  forenoon  passed  withou  my  tidings  of 
the  Crows,  and  Reginald,  impatient  of  a  state  of 
inaction,  resolved  to  sally  iorth  upon  Nekimi, 
and  to  make  a  sweep  over  the  adjacent  undula- 
ting prairie,  to  see  whether  he  could  discover  any 
sighs  of  them. 

Armed  with  his  knife,  pistols,  and  cutlass,  he 
slung  his  spy-glass  over  his  shoulder,  and  vault- 
ed on  the  back  of  his  favourite,  charging  Bap- 
tjste  and  Atto,  now  left  in  joint  command  of  the 
garrison,  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out,  and  promising 
to  return  before  dusk. 

How  did  his  blood  dance  with  excitement  as 
he  found  himself  trotting  briskly  across  the  vir- 
gin turf  of  that  wild,  boundless,  vegetable  ocean ; 
beneath  him  a  steed  bold,  eager,  joyous  as  him- 
self; above  him  a  blue  immensity  of  unclouded 
sky;  and  around  him  breezes  fresh  from  the 
Miowy  chambers  of  the  Northern  Andes !  Nor 
were  the  sources  of  excitement  from  within 
wanting  to  complete  its  measure,— a  conscious- 
Bcss  of  youth,  and  health,  and  strength;  a  mind 
capable  of  appreciating  the  wonders  of  Nature, 
and  of  following  them  up  to  their  Almighty  Fr  - 
mer;  a  heart  filled  to  overflowing  with  the  image 
of  a  kindred  being  whose  love  he  doubted  not, 
and  whom,  in  spite  of  dangers  and  obstacles,  his 
ardent  and  sanguine  spirit  whispered  that  he 
would  soon  rejoin ! 

Again  and  again  did  he  draw  from  his  bosom 
the  precious  clasp,  which  assured  him  that  he 
was  following  her  footsteps,  and  then  replacing 
it,  he  would  stoop  over  the  neck  of  Nekimi,  and 
caressing  his  playful  ear,  and  gently  pressing  his 
flank,  the  noblo  creature  caracoled,  neighed,  and 
bounded  beneath  him,  like  the  "  wild  and  wanton 
herd"  described  in  one  of  the  most  exquisite 
scenes  depicted  by  our  immortal  dramatist.* 

Notwithstanding  the  exciied  flow  of  his  spirits, 
Reginald  did  not  forget  the  object  of  his  excur- 
sion ;  he.not  only  noted  carefully  the  various  re- 
markable featurer  of  the  surrounding  country, 
so  as  to  secure,  in  case  of  need,  his  retreat  to  tlie 
encampment,  but  he  scanned  ihe  side  of  every 
hill,  and  the  bosom  of  every  valley  that  he  pass- 
ed, to  see  whether  any  parties  ot  the  Upsaroka 
were  yet  within  view. 

He  hnd  ridden  manv  miles  without  seeing  r.ny- 
thing  alive,  except  a  few  straggling  buflalos  and 
antelopes,  and  was  on  the  point  of  returning  to- 
wards the  camp,  when  he  descried  some  moving 
body  on  the  sky-line  in  the  eastern  horizon ; 
*  Merchant  of  Venice,  Act  v 


throwing  himself  from  bis  horse,  he  adjusted  his 
telescope,  and  fixing  it  on  the  object,  ascertained 
at  once  that  it  was  a  large  party  of  Indians  oa 
horseback.  Although  his  glass  was  of  excellent 
quality,  they  werr  so  distant  that  he  could  not 
count  them,  but  he  was  satisfied  that  they  con- 
siderably exceeded  a  hundred.  Observing  that 
their  course  was  directed  westward,  he  was  able, 
by  descending  an  oblique  ravine,  to  reach  the 
edge  of  a  copse  which  they  were  likely  to  pass 
at  no  great  distance,  whence,  J.imself  unseen,  he 
might  watch  their  movements,  and  form  a  more 
accurate  estimate  of  their  force. 

He  had  not  been  long  stationed  at  the  post 
which  he  had  selected  for  this  purpose,  when  the 
band  came  full  in  view  on  the  ridge  of  a  neigh- 
bouring hill. 

That  it  was  a  war-party  of  the  Crows  he  could 
no  longer  doubt,  as  their  dress  and  appearance 
were  precisely  the  same,  and  they  were  follow- 
ing with  the  faultless  sagacity  of  a  pack  of  blood- 
hounds, the  trail  which  he  and  his  companions 
had  trodden  on  the  preceding  day. 

Being  completely  sheltered  from  their  view  by 
the  copse,  he  was  able  to  observe  their  move- 
ments, and  to  plan  his  own  accordingly;  he 
counted  upwards  «f  two  hundred  and  fitly  mount- 
ed warriors,  and  bis  impression  was  that  their 
numbers  amounted  in  all  to  nearly  three  hun- 
dred; they  moved  forward  upon  the  trail  at  an 
even  pace  until  they  reached  the  brow  of  the  hill, 
whence  they  could  perceive,  although  at  a  con- 
siderable distance,  the  thicket  in  which  the  Del- 
awares  were  encamped.  Pausing  here,  they  held 
a  brief  council ;  it  was  clear  that  they  suspected 
that  the  above-named  wood  contained  those  ot 
whom  they  were  in  pursuit,  nor  was  it  long  be- 
fore their  lynx  eyes  detected  a  slight  column  of 
smoke  curling  up  above  the  trees,  on  seeing 
which  they  shouted  aloud,  while  their  rapid  and 
vehement  gesticulations  sufliciently  explained  to 
Reginald  the  discovery  that  they  had  made. 

It  was  eviuently  not  the  present  intention  of 
the  Crows  to  make  an  open  attack,  for  they  now 
divided  'heir  force  into  two  bands,  each  of  which 
pursued  its  course  along  the  back  of  the  ridges 
which  crowned  the  valley  wherein  the  encai.ip- 
ment  lay,  and  thus  they  would  be  enabled  to 
reach  a  point  not  far  distant  from  their  enemy 
on  opposite  sides,  before  their  approach  could 
be  perceived. 

The  position  of  Reginald  himself  was  now 
critical,  for  in  his  eagerness  to  watch  the  mo- 
tions of  the  Indians,  he  had  allowed  them  to  get 
between  him  and  his  own  party  ;  it  only  remain- 
ed for  him,  therefore,  to  decide  whether  he  should 
endeavour  to  reach  the  camp  unperceived,  or 
trusting  to  the  speed  of  Nekimi,  ride  boldly  to- 
wards it;  he  chose  the  latter,  rightly  judging  the 
impossibility  of  escaping  Indian  eyes  in  so  open 
a  country,  and  tie  thought  it  also  probable  that 
if  they  meditated  a  night  attack  upon  the  en- 
campment, they  would  permit  him  to  enter  it 
without  showing  themselves. 

Having  therelbre  examined  the  priming  ot 
his  pistols,  and  loosened  his  cutlass  in  Ihe 
sheath,  he  pushed  his  way  through  the  thicket, 
and  emerging  on  the  opposite  side,  rode  delib- 
erately forward. 

Choosing  the  most  open  ground,  he  pursued 
his  homeward  way  down  the  valley,  and  though 
his  eye  glanced  occasionally  to  the  hills  on  each 
side,  not  an  Indian  was  to  be  seen,  and  in  less 
than  in  hour  he  found  him,<>elf  again  within  the 
precincts  of  the  wooded  camp. 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


117 


!  adjusted  his 
t,  ascertained 
if  Indians  o« 
s  of  excellent 
lie  could  not 
hat  Ihey  con- 
bserving  that 
,  he  was  able, 

to  reach  the 
ikely  to  pass 
!lf  unseen,  he 

form  a  more 

i  at  the  post 
ose,  when  the 
;e  of  a  neigh- 

ows  he  could 
1  appearance 
were  follow- 
lack  of  blood- 
i  companions 

their  view  by 
;  their  move- 
:ordingly;  he 
^d  fitW  mount- 
vas  that  their 
riy  three  hun- 
he  trail  at  an 
°ow  of  the  hill, 
ugh  at  a  con- 
vhich  the  Del- 
here,  they  held 
ihey  suspected 
lined  those  ot 
ras  it  long  be- 
;ht  column  of 
tes,  on  seeing 
heir  rapid  and 
ly  explained  to 
lad  made, 
fit  intention  of 
c,  for  they  now 
each  of  which 

of  the  ridges 
n  the  encai.ip- 
be  enabled  to 
n  their  enemy 
pproach  could 

self  was  now 
vatch  the  mo- 
ed  them  to  get 
it  only  remain- 
ither  he  should 
nperceived,  or 
ride  boldly  to- 
lly judging  the 
yes  in  so  open 
I  probable  that 
upon  the  en- 
im  to  enter  it 

ne  priming  ot 
:utlass  in  the 
f;h  the  thicket, 
de,  rode  delib- 

id,  he  pursued 
ey,  ana  though 
e  hills  on  each 
en,  and  in  less 
;ain  within  the 


The  gravity  of  his  demeanour  as  he  joined 
his  companions,  led  them  to  conjecture  that  he 
had  seen  some  trace  of  their  enemies,  which  im- 
pression was  confirmed  amongst  them  when  he 
led  Baptiste  and  Atto  aside  to  hold  with  them  a 
council  of  war. 

Having  briefly  detailed  what  he  had  seen,  he 
ex{)resscd  his  belief  that  the  Crows  had  divided 
theii  force  for  the  purpose  of  attacking  the  camp 
in  the  course  of  the  ensuing  night,  and  conclu- 
ded by  asking  their  opinion  as  to  the  most  advi- 
sable means  of  defence.  After  a  short  delibera- 
tion, it  was  agreed  that  four  men  should  watch 
at  the  opposite  sides  of  the  thicket,  each  of  whom 
being  well  sheltered  behind  a  lug  of  wood  al- 
ieady  rolled  to  its  edge,  could  detect  the  ap- 
proach of  an  enemy  from  the  prairie,  and  that 
each  should  be  provided  with  two  loaded  rifles, 
so  that  in  case  of  his  being  obliged  to  fire  one  to 
give  the  alarm,  he  might  still  have  another 
ready  for  immediate  use. 

These  preparations  having  been  made,  and 
the  horses  brought  within  the  encampment,  the 
little  party  sat  down  to  their  supper,  and  after- 
wards smoked  (*ieir  pipes  as  unconcernedly  as 
if  neither  Crows  nor  danger  were  lurking  in  the 
neighbourhood.  Night  came  on,  and  those  whose 
turn  it  wiis  to  sleep,  announced  by  their  heavy 
breathing  that  the  hour  of  rest  was  not  unwel- 
come; Monsieur  Perrot  snored  so  loudly  from 
beneath  the  pile  of  blankets  in  which  he  had  en- 
veloped himself,  that  he  more  than  once  receiv- 
ed a  slight  admonition  from  the  elbow  of  the 
half-awakened  Guide,  who  lay  beside  him.  Regi- 
nald, however,  was  in  a  mood  whicli  would 
have  no  fellowship  with  sleep,  his  thoughts 
were  of  Prairie-bird,  still  in  Manega's  power,  of 
his  Indian  brother,  now  far  on  his  solitary  and 
dangerous  journey,  of  the  lurking  foes  whose 
attack  he  hourly  expected,  and  of  the  familiar 
faces  at  Mooshanne,  whom  distance  and  ab- 
sence now  rendered  doubly  dear.  The  night 
was  dark,  for  the  young  moon,  after  traversing 
her  appointed  section  of  the  southern  sky,  had 
disappeared,  and  the  twinkling  stars  threw  but 
an  uncertain  light,  rendered  yet  more  doubtful 
by  the  leafy  branches  which  waved  gently  to 
and  fro  under  the  light  breath  of  the  night  breeze. 

In  order  to  give  some  employment  to  his  un- 
quiet spirit,  Reginald  resolved  to  visit  the  sev- 
eral stations  where  his  sentries  were  posted,  and 
throwing  his  rifle  over  his  shoulder,  arose  and 
commenced  his  rounds.  Moving  with  a  slow 
and  noiseless  step,  he  went  to  each  of  the  posts 
in  succession,  and  finding  all  the  watchmen  on 
the  alert,  whispered  to  each  a  word  of  approba- 
tion. The  last  station  that  he  visited  was  occu- 
pied by  Atto,  and  Reginald,  sitting  down  behind 
the  log,  conversed  with  him  for  a  short  time,  in 
a  low  tone  of  voice,  each  pausing  at  intervals 
to  listen  and  look  out  upon  the  valley.  On  a 
sudden,  Atto,  touching  his  arm,  pointed  to  a 
spot  near  the  summit  of  the  neighbouring  hill; 
and  following  the  direction  indicated,  Reginald 
could  plainly  see  a  small  light,  as  of  a  dry  stick, 
which  burned  for  a  few  seconds  and  was  then 
extinguished. 

"  Let  Netis  watch,"  whi.spered  the  Indian ; 
"Atto  will  return  directly;"  and  with  these 
words  he  disappeared  in  the  thicket. 

Not  many  minutes  elapsed  ere  he  came  back, 
and  in  the  same  sabdu«d  tone,  said,  "  AH  is 
well  now,  the  Upsaroka  are  coining,  Atto  saw  the 
same  light  on  the  other  hill ;  it  is  a  sign  for  both 
parties  to  attack  from  opposite  sides  at  once," 


"  All  is  well,  indeed,"  thought  Reginald,  witb- 
in  himself  "  This  fellow  must  have  a  strange 
stomach  for  fighting,  when  he  applies  such  a 
term  to  an  expected  conflict,  where  the  odds  are 
to  be  two  or  three  hundred  to  ten." 

These  were  Reginald's  thoughts,  for  a  mo- 
ment; but  his  words  were:  "Baptiste,  Perrot, 
and  I,  will  remain  at  this  post,  you  can  spare 
us  also  one  of  your  warriors;  you  will  guard 
the  opposite  post  with  three  others;  there  will 
remain  one  to  move  constantly  round  within  the 
edge  of  the  thicket,  to  summon  us  to  any  point 
where  the  Crows  may  threaten  an  attack.  Is 
the  plan  good,  what  says  my  brother  V 

"  It  is  good,"  replied  the  Indian,  and  they  set 
about  it  ibrthwith  in  earnest  and  in  silence. 

Reginald  and  Baptiste,  having  previously  ex- 
amined all  the  logs  which  were  now  to  serve  for 
their  defence,  lost  no  lime  in  selecting  their  re- 
spective stations;  the  Indian  warrior  allotted  to 
them  was  placed  between  them;  Monsieur  Per- 
rot, safely  ensconced  behind  the  fallen  trunk  of 
an  alder,  was  to  load  his  master's  rifle,  and 
when  discharged,  to  replace  it  by  another;  and 
the  defenders  of  the  camp  were  all  instructed 
not  to  fire  until  their  enemies  were  so  near  as  to 
afford  a  certain  aim. 

The  side  on  which  Reginald  was  stationed 
was  the  most  open  to  attack,  from  its  being  ad- 
jacent to  the  brook  that  flowed  through  the  cen- 
tre of  the  valley,  the  banks  of  which,  being  dot- 
ted here  and  there  with  alder-bushes,  afforded 
an  occasional  covert  to  an  approachinr  enemy. 
Nearly  an  hour  had  elapsed,  and  Reginald  began 
to  suspect  that  they  had  mistaken  the  iutentlons 
of  the  Upsaroka,  when  Baptiste  poinfd  in  si- 
lence towards  the  prairie,  and  on  following  with 
his  eye  the  direction  of  his  companion'::  finger, 
he  saw  a  dusky  object  in  motion.  Looking 
steadily  forwarcl,  each  with  his  finger  on  (he  trig- 
ger of  his  rifle,  Reginald  and  Baptisir  could 
now  distinguish  the  figures  of  several  ir»dians, 
creeping  along  the  ground  towards  the  thicket 
On  a  sudden  the  report  of  Atto's  rifle  in  the  op- 
posite quarter  was  heard,  and  the  creeping  fig- 
ures starting  up,  advanced  with  shouts  and 
yells,  vainly  hoping  that  the  spot,  which  they 
had  sclectea  lor  attack,  was  defenceless.  When 
they  were  within  a  few  paces,  Reginald  and 
Baptiste  fired  at  once,  and  the  two  leading  In- 
dians fell;  most  of  their  companions-retired  in 
dismay,  one  only  sprung  forward  with  desperate 
courage,  and  his  evil  destiny  bringing  him  close 
past  the  log,  behind  whijh  the  Guide  was  post- 
ed, the  latter  cleft  the  skull  of  the  unfortunate 
savage  with  his  tremendous  hatchet. 

Maddened  by  disappointment,  and  by  the  loss 
of  several  of  their  comrades,  the  Crows  let  fly  a 
shower  of  arrows,  at  the  edge  of  the  thicket, 
and  retreated  on  all  sides,  filling  the  air  with 
their  cries  and  yells.  Reginald,  having  crossed 
over  to  visit  Atto  at  his  post,  found  that  the  Del- 
aware had  not  fired  in  vain,  for  a  reeking  scalp 
already  hung  at  his  belt,  and  it  appeared  that 
the  enemy  had  retired  on  this  side  also,  as  soon 
as  they  found  themselves  exposed  to  the  murder- 
ous fire  of  unseen  marksmen. 

Not  long  after  this  unsuccessful  attack  on  the 
part  of  the  Upsarokas,  day  broke,  and  having 
mounted  their  horses,  which  had  been  left  at 
some  distance,  they  returned  towards  the  en- 
campment; and  galloping  to  and  fro,  emleav- • 
oured,  by  every  kind  of  insulting  gesticulation, 
to  induce  their  cautious  enemies  to  come  forth, 
or  at  least  to  exhaiict  their  ammunition  by  firing 


,t: 


lis 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


at  random ;  but  Reginald's  party  kept  close  with- 
n  their  coven,  tuKing  no  notice  whatever  of 
ihese  bravadoes,  although  several  of  ihe  horse- 
men came  within  a  distance  which  would  have 
rendered  liiem  an  easy  marii  for  the  Guide's 
unerring  rifle;  their  insolence  jjrodnced  only  a 
grim  smile  on  his  weather-beaten  countenance, 
as  he  whispered  to  Reginald, 

"They  are  somewhat  out  of  their  reckoning 
as  to  the  'Doctor's'  range;  poor  devils,  if  they'll 
only  keep  olf,  1  don't  want  to  hurt  any  more  of 
them  !  But  if  thai  long-haired  fellow,  capering 
on  a  brown  horse,  were  a  Dahcotah,  I'd  make  a 
hole  in  his  hunting-shirt  belbrc  he  was  many 
minutes  older." 

"  1  am  glad  to  find  you  in  a  merciful  humour. 
Baptiste,"  replied  the  young  man ;  "  I  too  would 
willingly  avoid  farther  slaughter  of  these  Crows, 
and  while  fighting  with  them  we  are  losing  time 
more  pi-ecious  to  me  than  gold." 

As  he  was  yet  speaking,  his  attention  was 
caught  by  the  sound  of  a  scuffle  within  the 
thicket,  Ibllowed  by  a  shout,  and  immediately 
afterwards  Attoand  another  Delaware  came  for- 
ward, dragging  with  them  a  Crow,  whom  the 
quick  eye  of  the  former  had  detected  lurking  un- 
der the  dense  foliage  of  an  alder-bush. 

"Whom  have  you  herel"  exclaimed  Regi- 
nald ;  "  and  where  did  vou  find  him  V 

"  Upsaroka,"  replied  Atto;  "he  must  have 
crept  tike  a  snake  under  the  grass,  for  the  Dela- 
wares  are  not  blind,  yet  he  is  here." 

The  prisoner  was  a  tall,  bold-looking  youth, 
and  he  seemed  resolutely  prepared  to  meet  the 
fate  which  a  spy  and  an  enemy  must  expect  in 
that  wild  region. 

"  'Tis  a  fine  lad,"  said  Banliste,  dryly,  "and 
he  has  given  us  a  lesson  to  Keep  a  better  look 
out;  'lis  clear  that  he  has  crept  down  the  brook, 
while  we  have  been  watching  those  galloping 
thieves:  tie  the  rogue's  hands,  my  friend  Atto, 
and  let  us  scour  the  thicket  from  one  end  to  the 
other.  Two  or  three  such  as  him  within  the 
camp,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  would  be  apt  to 
interfere  with  our  rest." 

The  prisoner  having  been  bound,  Atto  pro- 
ceeded with  two  of  his  warriors  to  search  every 
corner  of  the  thicket,  while  Baptiste,  with  the 
remainder,  watched  the  various  parties  of  horse- 
men who  were  still  hovering  at  a  distance. 

Reginald  was  leil  for  a  lew  minutes  alone 
with  the  youth,  whom  he  looked  at  with  mingled 
compassion  and  admiration,  for  it  was  clear  that 
he  had  devoted  his  own  life  to  obtain  a  triumph 
ibr  his  tribe,  and  although  he  had  not  the  ex- 
pressive intellectual  beauty  of  Wingenund,  nor 
the  heroic  stamp  of  form  and  feature  by  which 
"War-Eagle  was  distinguished,  yet  there  was  a 
certain  wild  fierceness  in  his  eye  betokening  a 
ppirit,  that  awakened  a  feeling  of  sympathy  in 
Reginald's  breast.  While  looking  steadlastly 
on  the  youth  under  the  influence  of  these  feel- 
ings, he.  observed  that  the  Delawares,  in  their 
hurried  anxiety  to  secure  the  prisoner,  had 
bound  the  thongs  so  tightly  round  his  arms  as  to 
cause  a  stoppage  of  the  blood,  the  veins  around 
the  ligature  being  already  swollen  to  a  painfid 
extent. 

With  the  imhesitating  generosity  of  his  na- 
ture, Reginald  stepped  forward,  and  loosening 
the  thong,  left  the  youth  at  liberty;  at  the  same 
time  he  smiled,  anil  pointing  to  the  knife  in  his 
belt,  made  the  sign  of  "No,"  intimating  that  he 
flhould  not  repay  this  benefit  by  using  that 
weapon. 


The  quick-sighted  savage  understood  him  as 
jilaiiily  as  if  the  hint  had  been  given  in  his  own 
language,  for  he  instantly  detached  the  knife 
from  his  belt  and  presented  it  to  Reginald. 
There  was  so  much  natural  dignity  and  sincer- 
ity in  his  manner  while  doing  so,  that  our  hero 
in  receiving  his  weapon,  gave  him  in  exchange 
a  spare  knite  that  hung  in  his  own  belt,  making 
at  the  same  time  the  Indian  sign  for  friendship. 

The  nerves  which  were  strung  to  endure  ex- 
pected torture  and  a  lingering  death,  were  not 
prepared  for  this  unlooked-for  clemency ;  the 
youth  spoke  a  few  soft  words  in  his  own  tongue, 
looking  earnestly  in  Reginald's  face,  and  had 
not  yet  recovered  his  self  possession,  when  Atto 
returned  with  his  companions,  to  report  that  the 
prisoner  must  have  come  upon  this  dangerous 
war-path  alone,  as  no  other  of  his  tribe  was  lurk- 
ing in  or  near  the  thicket. 

"Alto,"  said  Reginald,  addressing  the  Dela- 
ware, "  this  youth  belongs  by  right  to  the  hand 
that  took  him,  he  is  yours;  I  ask  you  to  give 
him  to  me,  to  do  with  him  as  ( like." 

"  The  hand  and  the  heart  of  Atto  are  both 
open  to  Netis;  he  is  brother  to  the  war-chief  of 
the  Lena])e — Atto  is  glad  to  give  him  what  he 
asks." 

"Atto  is  a  brave  man,"  replied  Reginald, 
"  and  worthy  of  his  race ;  he  can  see  that  this 
youth  is  on  his  first  war-path ;  he  came  to  the 
camp  to  make  himself  a  name;  if  the  quick 
eye  of  Atto  had  not  found  him,  there  would 
have  been  a  war-cry  in  the  night— is  it  not  so, 
brothers  V 

The  Delawares  gave  their  usual  exclamation 
of  assent. 

"Brothers,"  continued  Reginald,  "Atto  has 
given  this  youth  to  me — I  thank  him :  the  hand 
of  Netis  is  not  shut,  it  holds  a  collar  which  hung 
upon  the  neck  of  a  great  warrior,  it  will  not  be 
ashamed  to  hang  on  the  neck  of  Atto." 

As  he  said  this,  he  threw  over  the  neck  of  the 
Delaware  the  magnificent  bear-claw  collar  which 
adorned  his  own.  This  was  perhaps  Ihe  hap- 
piest moment  of  Atto's  life,  for  such  a  collar 
could  be  worn  only  by  braves  of  the  highest 
rank  in  Indian  Aristocracy,  and  the  acclamation 
with  which  his  comrades  hailed  tfie  presentation 
of  the  gift,  assured  Reginald  that  it  had  been 
neither  unwisely  nor  unworthily  bestowed. 

The  latter  then  turned  towards  the  prisoner, 
and  made  him  a  sign  to  follow  towards  the  out- 
er edge  of  the  thicket,  in  the  direction  where 
Baptiste  and  he  had  shot  the  two  Indians  who 
led  the  attack;  their  bodies  still  lay  where  they 
fell ;  the  youth  gazed  upon  them  with  stern  com- 
posure. Reginald  inquired  by  a  sign  if  he  knew 
them;  he  replied  in  the  affirmative ;  and  he  add- 
ed, pointing  to  the  nearest  of  the  two,  a  sign 
which  Reginald  did  not  comprehend;  he  turned 
to  Atto  for  an  explanation. 

"  He  says,"  replied  the  Delaware,  "  that  was 
his  father." 

Reginald,  much  affected,  placed  the  youth's 
hand  against  his  own  breast  m  token  of  regard, 
and  made  him  understand  that  he  was  free  to 
go  himself,  and  to  remove  the  bodies  without  in- 
terruption. 

The  young  Crow  replied  by  a  look  of  grati- 
tude too  expiessive  to  require  the  interpretation 
of  language,  and  moving  towards  the  body  of  his 
father,  bore  it  into  the  midst  of  his  wondering 
companions,  who  received  him  with  repeated 
wailings  and  cries;  none,  however,  seemed  dis- 
posed to  believe  in  his  assurance  that  they  might 


erstood  him  as 
ren  in  his  own 
hed  the   Itnit'e 

to  Reginald, 
ity  and  sincer- 
,  that  our  hero 
rn  in  exchange 
n  belt,  making 
for  friendship. 

to  endure  ex- 
eath,  were  not 
ilemency;  the 
is  own  tongue, 
face,  and  had 
ion,  when  Atto 
report  that  the 
this  dangerous 
tribe  was  lurk- 
sing  the  Dela- 
[ht  to  the  hand 
ik  you  to  give 
ke." 

Atto  are  both 
le  war-chief  of 
::  him  what  he 

ilied  Reginald, 
,n  see  that  this 
le  came  to  the 
;  if  the  quick 
II,  there  would 
U — is  it  not  so, 

al  exclamation 

lid,  "Atlo  has 
him:  the  hand 
lar  which  hung 
r,  it  will  not  be 
Atto." 

the  neck  of  the 
iw  collar  which 
irhaps  the  hap- 
such  a  collar 
of  the  highest 
he  acclamation 
Jie  presentation 
at  it  bad  been 
bestowed. 
Is  the  prisoner, 
)wards  the  out- 
irection  where 
o  Indians  who 
lay  where  they 
vith  stern  com- 
iign  if  he  knew 
'e ;  and  he  add- 
lie  two,  a  sign 
end ;  he  turned 

are,  "  that  was 

ed  the  youth's 
5ken  of  regard, 
he  was  free  to 
lies  without  in- 

L  look  of  grati- 
3  interpretation 
thebody  of  his 
his  wondering 
with  repeated 
er,  seemed  dis- 
ihat  they  might 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


11» 


take  away  the  other  body  likewise;  he  was 
obliged  to  return  himself,  and  then  one  of  his 
tribe,  seeing  that  he  stood  uninjured  beside  it, 
came  out  from  their  ranks  and  assisted  him  to 
bear  it  off. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

An  unexpected  Meeting.— Reginald  prepare!  to  follow  the 
Trail. 

For  two  days  thebandof  Crows  hovered  round 
the  encampment,  sometimes  showing  themselves 
on  the  adjacent  heights,  at  others  drawing  off  to 
a  distance,  in  hopes  of  enticing  some  of  Regi- 
nald's party  to  venture  into  the  open  country; 
but,  although  he  himself  chafed  and  fretted  like 
an  impatient  steed,  he  was  sensible  of  the  risk 
that  must  attend  any  error  or  imprudence  while 
in  the*  neighbourhood  of  an  enemy  so  crafty  and 
so  strong  in  numbers,  and  he  never  permitted  the 
watchfulness  of  his  little  garrison  to  be  relaxed 
for  a  moment;  the  horses  were  driven  to  feed 
under  the  guard  of  two  armed  Deiawares,  and 
were  not  sent  to  a  distance  whence  their  return 
could  be  intercepted,  and  the  watches  were  reg- 
ularly set  and  relieved  during  the  whole  night. 

On  the  third  day  the  Crows,  finding  that  all 
their  endeavours  to  draw  their  cautious  enemy 
from  the  covert  were  vain,  held  a  council  of  war, 
after  which  three  or  four  of  their  principal  chiefs 
approached  the  encampment,  making,  as  they 
advanced,  signs  of  amity  and  truce.  Reginald 
went  out  to  meet  them,  accompanied  by  Baptiste 
and  Atto,  leaving  orders  with  the  remainder  of 
his  party  to  hold  themselves  in  readiness  against 
any  attempt  at  treachery.  Halting  at  a  spot  not 
more  than  eighty  yards  from  the  wood,  he 
awaited  the  Crow  leaders,  who  came  forward  to 
meet  him  without  any  apparent  suspicion  or 
treacherous  design. 

They  had  taken  the  precaution  to  bring  with 
them  the  youth  to  whom  Reginald  had  already 
shown  kindness,  and  whose  presence  they  rightly 
conjectured  would  facilitate  the  amicable  nature 
of  their  mission. 

Reginald  acknowledged  with  a  smile  the 
friendly  greeting  of  his  young  prot6g6,  and  then, 
drawing  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  awaited  in 
silence  the  opening  of  the  parley. 

The  Crow  partisan*  first  glanced  his  keen  eye 
over  the  persons  of  those  wtiom  he  was  about  to 
address,  as  if  scanning  them  for  the  purpose  of 
ascertaining  their  qualities  and  character,  and 
whether  he  should  best  succeed  by  endeavouring 
to  circumvent  or  to  overawe  them.  Keen  as 
he  was,  his  penetration  was  here  at  fault,  for 
although  no  three  persons  could  be  more-  dis- 
similar than  those  before  him,  yet,  whether  taken 
collectively  or  severally,  they  looked  like  men 
who  would  not  be  easily  overreached;  his  eye 
first  rested  on  the  spare,  sinewy  frame  and  im- 
penetrable countenance  of  Atto,  thence  it  glanced 
to  the  muscular  frame  and  shrewd  hard  features 
ofthe  Guide,  and  turning  from  them,  it  found  but 
little  encouragement  in  the  bright  bold  eye  ami 
commanding  form  of  Rea;inald  Brandon. 

Perceiving,  with  the  intuitive  sagacity  of  an 
Indian,  that  the  latter  was  the  leader  of  his  party, 
the  rtisan  opened  the  parley  by  pointing  his 
il         ,'er  at  Reginald,  and  then  pressing  the 


*  I;  !•  travels  of  Major  l^oiig,  and  others,  who  have  ilo- 
gcrilii'U  Uie  Indians  of  tlio  far-wi'stern  pniiries,  Hie  "  hrave" 
who  leads  a  war-partjr  is  usiiiiUy  designated  a  "  partisan."' 


closed  fingers  against  his  own  breast ;  he  then 
pointed  to  himself  with  the  same  finger,  and 
afterwards  stretching  both  arms  horizontally, 
moved  them  up  and  down  with  a  vibrating  mo- 
tion, concluding  his  pantomime  by  again  raising 
the  tore-finger  of  his  right  hand  vertically  to  the 
height  of  his  forehead.  Reginald,  who  could 
not  understand  these  gestures,  turned  to  Alto, 
saying,  "  Does  my  brother  know  what  the  stran- 
ger speaks^    If  so,  let  him  explain." 

"He  says,"  replied  the  Delaware,  "that  he 
wishes  to  be  friends  with  you;  and  he  tells  you, 
by  the  last  signs,  that  he  is  an  Upsaroka  and  a 
chief."* 

"  Tell  him,"  said  Reginald,  "that  if  his  heart 
is  true,  and  his  tongue  not  forked,  we  also  wish 
to  be  friends  with  him  and  his  people." 

The  Crow  replied  by  making  the  conventional 
sign  lor  "Good,"  addmg  to  it  that  lor  "  Truth." 

On  this  being  explained  to  Reginald,  the  latter 
desired  Baptiste  to  bring  from  the  camp  some 
tobacco,  a  pipe,  and  a  few  trinkets  for  distribu- 
tion among  the  Crows.  On  the  return  of  the 
Guide,  the  whole  party  took  their  seats,  Regi- 
nald placing  the  partisan  on  his  right,  and  the 
young  prisoner  whom  he  had  released  on  his 
left.  After  the  pipe  had  been  smoked  with  due 
gravity  and  decorum,  he  divided  among  his 
guests  some  beads  and  other  fanciful  ornaments, 
according  to  their  rank,  with  which  they  seemed 
highly  delighted;  the  chief  in  particular  testified 
his  satisfaction  by  repeated  gesticulations  of 
friendship  and  aflTection  towards  his  white  broth- 
er, whom  he  invited  to  go  and  feast  with  him 
and  his  braves.  This  invitation  Reginald  begged 
leave  to  decline,  but  he  desired  Atto  to  explain  to 
his  guest  that  he  would  visit  him  on  some  other 
occasion. 

While  these  civilities  were  passing  between 
the  respective  parties,  a  great  commotion  was 
observed  among  the  Crows  stationed  on  the 
neighbouring  hill,  some  of  whom  were  seen  gal- 
loping to  and  fro,  as  if  communicating  some 
unexpected  intelligence.  The  partisan  aro.se 
and  took  his  leave  with  courteous  dignity,  ex- 
plaining by  signs  that  he  wished  to  ascertain 
what  was  passing  among  his  people. 

As  he  withdrew,  the  youth,  whose  life  Regi- 
nald had  spared,  turned  his  head  and  gave  the 
latter  a  look  which  he  understood  to  convey  a 
warning,  but  it  was  so  rapid  that  he  could  not 
feel  assured  that  he  had  rightly  construed  its 
meaning.  Reginald  remained  for  some  time  on 
the  spot  watching  the  motions  ofthe  Crows,  who 
had  now  gathered  in  their  scattered  horsemen, 
and  were  evidently  awaiting  with  some  impa- 
tience the  return  of  their  chief  Reginald's  eye 
was  still  fixed  upon  them,  when  Atto,  pointing 
to  the  eastward,  whispered,  "Men  are  coming!" 

Turning  his  head  in  the  direction  indicated, 
Reginald  thought  he  perceived  a  moving  object 
in  the  distance. 

"  I  see  something  in  that  quarter,  but  not  dis- 
tinctly ;  are  you  sure  it  is  a  party  of  men  1" 

"Sure." 

"Mounted,  or  on  footl' 


*  It  has  before  been  mentioned,  tliat  amonsr  the  rovins; 
tribes  of  the  great  Missourian  wilderness  every  one  has  its 
distinctive  national  siga  ;  these  are  well  known  to  each 
other,  and  to  white  men  who  are  experienced  in  the  life  of 
the  far-west ;  the  sign  mentioned  in  the  text  is  that  adopted 
by  the  Upsarokas,  as  they  intend  by  the  motion  of  their  ex- 
tended arms  to  imitate  that  of  the  wings  of  n  crow  in  flight. 
The  Sioux,  Blackfeflt,  Pawnees,  Snakes,  Aricaras,  Coman- 
ches,  dec,  have  all  their  distinctive  national  signs  ;  but  an 
enumeration  of  thora  would  be  tedious  and  out  of  place  here. 


130 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


"Both,"  replied  the  Delaware,  without  re- 
moving his  bright  keen  eye  from  the  object. 
"  They  are  upon  our  trail,"  he  added ;  "  if  they 
are  not  friends,  we  had  better  return  to  the  camp. 

Meanwhile  Reginald  unslung  his  telescope, 
and  having  at  length  brought  it  to  bear  upon  the 
advancing  party,  he  exclaimed, 

"  By  Heaven !  there  are  white  men  as  well  as 
Tndians  there,  horses,  and  loaded  mules  I" 

"  How  many  T'  inquired  Baptiste. 

"They  seem  to  me  to  be  fifteen  or  twenty 
strong.  Should  their  intentions  appear  suspi- 
cious, we  are  near  enough  to  retire  into  our 
camp;  if  they  are  friends,  they  will  soon  see  us, 
and  approach  without  fear  or  hesitation." 

The  Guide  shook  his  head  as  if  distrusting  all 
new  comers  in  that  remote  region ;  but  they  were 
within  rifle-shot  of  the  covert,  and  could,  if  ne- 
cessary, retire  thither  under  the  protection  of  the 
fire  of  those  within  it. 

The  Crows  still  hovered  upon  the  summit  of 
the  adjoining  hill,  and  several  minutes  of  breath- 
less interest  elapsed  ere  the  approaching  band 
emerged  from  a  hollow  upon  a  point  of  the  val- 
ley, where  they  were  now  clearly  distinguish- 
able, and  proved  to  be,  as  Reginald  had  said,  a 
mixed  party  of  Indians  and  white  men. 

He  was  not  aware  that  among  the  latter  was 
a  telescope  as  good,  and  a  horseman  whose  eye 
was  more  practised  in  the  use  of  it  than  his  own ; 
that  horseman  galloped  out  in  front  of  his  band 
and  advanced  at  full  E-"ied  to  the  spot  where 
Reginald  stood,  and  almost  before  the  latter 
could  rightly  use  his  faculties  of  sight  or  speech, 
that  horseman  flung  himself  from  his  horse,  and 
Reginald  was  in  the  arms  of  Ethelston. 

There  is  nothing  that  stirs  the  heart  to  its  very 
depths,  more  than  the  meeting  a  friend  after  a 
long  separation ;  not  such  a  friend  as  is  found  in 
the  ordmary  intercourse  of  worldly  society,  but 
a  friend  whom  we  really  esteem  and  love,  a 
friend  whom  we  have  learned  to  cherish  in  our 
bosom's  core— this  must  have  been  felt  by  all 
(alas!  they  are  not  very  many^,  who  have  de- 
served and  obtained  such  a  blessmg  in  life.  How, 
then,  must  these  stirrings  of  the  heart  be  increas- 
ed if  such  a  friend  comes  to  our  aid  and  comfort 
when  we  thought  him  thousands  of  miles  distant, 
when  we  are  in  anxiety  and  peril,  when  he  brings 
us  the  latest  tidings  of  our  home!  We  will  not 
attempt  to  descritle  the  meeting  of  the  two  long- 
separated  and  loving  friends  under  such  circum- 
stancas,  nor  to  relate  one  hundredth  part  of  the 
inquiries  which  each  had  to  make  and  to  reply  to. 

The  reader  is  already  in  possession  of  the  in- 
formation which  they  had  to  communicate  to 
each  other,  and  can  easily  understand  how  Ethel- 
ston and  his  party,  guided  by  the  young  Dela- 
ware, had  followed  the  trail  on  which  they  had 
been  preceded  by  the  bands  cf  Mah^ga  and  of 
Reginald :  the  latter  greeted  with  cordial  pleas- 
ure Paul  Miiller,  who  now  .advanced  to  oflfer 
him  his  friendly  salutation,  while  Pierre,  Bap- 
tiste, and  Bearskin,  who  had  weathered  many 
a  stormy  day  by  flood  and  field  together,  inter- 
changed the  grasp  of  their  horny  hands  with  un- 
disguised satisfaction. 

In  the  meeting  between  the  two  bands  of  the 
Delawares,  there  was  less  demonstration,  but  it 
may  be  doubted  whether  there  was  less  excite- 
ment, as  the  last  comers  narrated  to  their  com- 
rades the  bloody  vengeance  which  they  had  taken 
on  some  of  their  foes,  and  dilated  upon  that  which 
they  anticipated  in  pursuit  of  Mahega. 

Ethelston  s  party  being  provided  with  some 


cotfee,  sugar,  biscuits,  and  other  luxuries,  whicA 
had  been  long  strange  to  Reginald's  camp,  the 
evening  of  their  arrival  was  devoted  to  a  great 
merry-making,  Monsieur  Perrot  undertaking  the 
office  of  chief  cook,  and  master  of  the  ceremo- 
nies, both  of  which  he  executed  with  so  much 
skill  and  good-humour  as  to  win  the  favour  of 
all  present.  In  the  midst  of  the  feasting,  the  se- 
curity of  the  encampment  was  never  endangered 
by  the  omission  of  due  precautions,  for  the  horses 
were  driven  in  and  the  sentries  posted,  as  on  the 
preceding  night,  Reginald  being  well  aware  of 
the  treacherous  character  of  his  Crow  neigh- 
bours, and  his  suspicions  aroused  by  the  slight, 
but  significant  look  given  to  him  at  parting  by 
the  youth  whose  life  he  had  spared. 

While  they  were  seated  round  a  blazing  fire 
enjoying  the  good  cheer  which  Perrot  had  pro- 
vided, Pierre,  fixing  his  eyes  upon  the  bear-claw 
collar  worn  by  Atio,  uttered  an  exclamation  of 
surprise,  and,  springing  from  his  seat,  went  to 
examine  it  closer;  having  done  so,  he  pronounced 
slowly  and  with  emphasis  a  name  as  long  as  a 
Sanscrit  patronymic. 

"What  does  that  mean,  Pierre  1"  inquired 
Ethelston,  who  had  found  in  the  latter  a  guide 
of  great  shrewdness  and  experience. 

"  It  is  the  name  of  the  Upsaroka  to  whom  that 
collar  belonged,  in  our  tongue,  'The  man  whose 
path  is  red.'  I  saw  it  upon  his  neck  last  year, 
when  I  was  at  the  post  near  the  Upper  Forks. 
He  came  to  trade  with  us  for  a  few  knives  and 
blankets— he  was  a  great  war-chief,  and  had 
killed  more  Blackl'ect  than  any  man  in  bis 
tribe." 

"  Well,  Pierre,  his  own  turn  is  come  now ;  h« 
will  kill  no  more  Black-feet  nor  white  men 
either,"  said  Baptiste  to  his  comrade. 

"  Did  yonder  Lenape  kill  him,  and  in  fair 
fight,  man  to  man  1" 

"  He  was  killed  in  fair  fight,  man  to  man ;  not 
by  Atto,  but  by  a  young  war-chief  whom  the 
Lenap6  call  Netis,"  replied  the  Guide. 

Pierre  fixed  his  quick  grey  eye  upon  the  ath- 
letic figure  of  Reginald  Brandon,  who  coloured 
slightly  as  he  encountered  at  the  same  time  the 
glance  of  Paul  Miiller. 

"It  is  true,"  he  said,  "  I  had  foolishly  separa- 
ted myself  from  the  rest  of  my  party,  I  was  in- 
tercepted in  attempting  to  return,  and  only  esca- 
ped paying  the  penally  of  my  carelessness  by  the 
speed  of  my  horse.  The  Crow  chief  w  as  better 
mounted  than  the  rest  of  his  tribe,  and  as  soon 
as  I  paused  to  breathe  my  horse,  he  attacked  aad 
slightly  wounded  me ;  in  defending  myself,  I 
killed  him." 

"  My  son,"  observed  the  Missionary,  "  he  diert 
as  he  had  lived,  reckless  and  brave;  it  rejoices 
me  to  hear  you  speak  of  the  deed  as  one  of  ne- 
cessity and  self-preservation." 

"I  know  not,"  muttered  Pierre,  "what  he  calls 
necessity,  but  it's  a  fine  feather  in  the  youth's 
cap,  and  our  Delawares  shall  know  it  too." 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  features  in  the 
character  of  this  man,  was  the  facility  with  which 
he  acquired  the  habits  and  languages  of  the  dif- 
ferent tribes,  among  whom  his  roving  life  had 
thrown  him;  moreover,  he  had  '.he  faculty  of  re- 
membering with  unerring  certainty,  any  face,  or 
spot,  or  tree,  or  path  that  he  had  once  seen,  so 
that  his  services  as  guide  and  interpreter  were 
highly  valued;  .nnd  as  Pierre,  though  a  good- 
'■umoured  fellow,  was  shrewd  enough  in  matters 
of  business,  he  usually  exacted,  and  had  no  dif- 
ficulty in  obtaining  a  liberal  remuneration  froia 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRB 


lai 


in  bis 


the  rival  leaders  of  the  fur-trade  cotnpaDies;  he 
was  tolerably  well  versed  in  the  language  ol'the 
Crows  and  the  Black-feet,  the  two  great  nations 
inhabiting  the  vast  region  between  the  upper 
waters  of  the  rivers  Platte  and  Missouri ;  and 
there  were  few  of  the  roving  tribes  upon  either 
bank  of  the  latter,  among  whom  he  could  not 
make  himself  understood.  As  an  interpreter,  he 
dealt  fairly  by  his  employer,  although  he  hated 
the  Black-feet,  in  consequence  of  a  warrior  of 
that  tribe  having  carried  off  an  Indian  belle  to 
whom  Pierre  was  paying  his  addresses.  This 
olTence  he  had  never  forgiven,  and  it  gave  him 
in  all  subsequent  transactions  a  natural  leaning 
towards  the  Crows,  the  mortal  and  hereditary 
foes  of  his  successful  rival's  tribe. 

While  Pierre  related  in  an  under  tone,  to  those 
Dela  wares  of  his  party  who  did  not  understand 
English,  the  victory  obtained  over  the  great  war- 
chief  of  the  Crows,  by  Reginald  Brandon,  the 
latter  kepi  up  a  long  and  interesting  conversa- 
tion with  Etbelston,  whom  he  found  already  in- 
formed by  the  Missionary  of  his  engagement  to 
Prairie-bird. 

On  this  subject  Reginald,  who  knew  the  pru- 
dence of  his  friend's  usual  character,  scarcely 
expected  his  sympathy  or  concurrence :  he  was, 
therefore,  thn  more  agreeably  surprised,  when  he 
found  him  disposed  to  enter  into  all  his  plans  for 
the  recovery  of  his  betrothed,  with  a  zeal  and 
enthusiasm  almost  equal  to  his  own. 

"  The  good  Missionary,"  said  Eihelston,  "  has 
told  me  much  of  the  early  life,  as  well  as  of  the 
character  and  qualities  ot  Prairie-bird.  I  cannot 
tell  you  how  deeply  she  has  engaged  my  interest, 
my  own  feelings  towards  your  sister  render  me 
capable  of  appreciating  yours,  and  I  pledge  you 
my  faith,  dear  Reginald,  that  1  will  spare  neither 
toil  nor  exertion,  nor  life  itself,  to  aid  you  in  this 
precious  search." 

Reginald  grasped  his  hand — there  was  no  need 
of  words  of  gratitude  between  them — and  ere 
long  both  turned  to  consult  with  Paul  Miiller,  as 
to  their  further  proceedings.  Alter  due  deliber- 
ation, they  agreed  that  on  the  following  morning 
they  should  pursue  the  trail,  regardless  of  their 
Crow  neighbours,  whom  they  had  now  little 
cause  to  fear,  and  that  previous  to  starting  they 
would  hold  a  council,  at  which  Reginald  should 
propose  the  distribution  of  their  respective  posts, 
on  the  line  of  march,  in  the  event  of  their  wish- 
ing him  to  retain  that  of  leader. 

The  night  having  passed  without  anv  alarm, 
Reginald  summoned  a  general  council  of  war 
before  daybreak ;  as  soon  as  they  were  assem- 
bled, he  told  them  through  Baptiste,  who  acted 
as  interpreter,  that  ihe^  were  now  strong  enough 
to  pursue  the  trail,  without  fear  of  interruption 
from  the  Crows,  and  that  if  the  latter  were  fool- 
ish enough  to  make  an  attack,  they  would  soon 
have  cause  to  repent  it.  He  then  added  that 
War-Eagle,  their  chief,  being  absent  on  the  war- 

{)ath,  it  was  necessary  for  some  one  to  act  as 
eader  until  his  return,  and,  as  his  party  had 
been  joined  by  so  many  warriors  of  experience, 
he  would  gladly  place  himself  under  the  advice 
and  guidance  of  the  man  whom  they  might  se- 
lect. 

When  Baptiste  had  finished  this  speech,  the 
oldest  warrior  of  Ethelston's  party  arose  and 
said,  "  Is  it  not  true  that  War-Eagle,  when  he 
went,  appointed  Netis  leader  in  his  place  T  A 
murmur  of  assent  came  from  the  lips  of  Atto 
and  his  pariy.  "  Is  it  not  true,"  continued  the 
Indian,  ^  that  Netis  is  a  brave  and  skilful  war- 


rior?— one  who  need  not  be  silent  when  the 
braves  strike  the  war-post  t  His  heart  is  truu 
to  the  Lenape,  and  he  will  tell  them  no  lies." 

"  If  the  white  men  are  content  with  Netis,  the 
Lenape  \i  ish  no  other  leader.  I  have  spoken." 
As  the  scarred  and  weather-beaten  warrior 
resumed  his  seat,  another  and  a  general  murmur 
of  approbation  broke  from  the  Delawares;  and 
Eihelston  having  spoken  a  few  words  of  similar 
import  to  the  white  men,  Reginald  found  him- 
self by  universal  acclamation  chosen  leader  of 
the  party. 

After  modestly  thanking  them  for  their  good 
opinion,  his  first  act  was  to  appoint  Atto  as  guide 
upon  the  trail,  desiring  him  to  select  any  two 
whom  he  might  wish  to  assist  him,  in  the  event 
of  its  becoming  forked,  or  otherwise  difficult 
to  follow.  Monsieur  Perrot,  with  the  provis- 
ions, and  loaded  mules,  occupied  the  centre 
of  the  line  of  march,  in  which  comparatively 
secure  post  he  was  accompanied  by  Paul  Mai- 
ler, the  main  body  of  the  hunters  and  the  Dela- 
wares being  distributed  before  and  behind  the 
baggage. 

For  himself  Reginald  reserved  the  rear-guard, 
where  he  retained  Ethelston,  Baptiste,  and  a 
young  Delaware,  whomhe  might  despatch  upon 
any  emergency  to  communicate  with  the  front. 
Ue  also  appointed  four  of  the  best  mounted  of 
his  men,  two  on  each  side  of  his  party,  to  pro- 
tect the  Hanks  against  any  sudden  attack,  Pierre 
being  sent  forward  to  render  any  assistance  to 
Atto  that  he  might  require. 

These  arrangements  being  complete,  and 
made  known  to  the  respective  parties,  they  were 
about  to  set  forth  on  their  journey  when  Attn  in- 
formed Reginald,  that  the  Crow  youth  was  com- 
ing swiftly  across  the  valley  towards  the  en- 
campment, pursued  at  a  distance  by  several 
horsemen  ol  his  tribe ;  the  lad  was  riding  one'  of 
the  swifiest  and  most  untamed  of  the  wild  horses 
with  which  that  region  abounds,  yet  he  had  nei- 
ther bridle  nor  saddle,  guiding  the  animal  with 
a  leather  thong,  which  he  had  thrown  round  its 
nose,  and  urging  it  to  its  utmost  speed  with  a 
bow  which  he  held  in  his  right  hand.  A  few 
minutes  brought  the  foaming  little  steed  and  its 
rider  to  the  edge  of  the  thicket,  where  the  latter, 
still  holding  the  leather  thong,  stood  in  silence 
before  Reginald ;  his  eyes  were  literally  spark- 
ling with  indignant  rage,  and  he  did  not  evea 
deign  to  look  behind  him  to  see  whether  his 
pursuers  approached ;  the  latter,  however,  did 
not  choose  to  venture  near  the  encanipment, 
but  as  soon  as  they  saw  that  he  had  gained 
its  shelter,  they  gave  a  few  loud  and  discord- 
ant yells,  and  disappeared  behind  the  hill. 

The  services  of  Pierre  were  now  put  into  re- 
quisition; and  as  soon  as  the  youth  found  aa 
ear  that  could  understand  his  tale,  he  told  it 
with  a  rapidity  and  vehemence,  that  showed 
the  strong  excitement  of  his  feelings  ;  the  story, 
as  interpreted  by  Pierre,  was  briefly  thus : 

"The  youth  was  present  on  the  preceding 
day  at  a  war-council,  where  the  Crows  propo- 
sed a  plan  for  inveigling  the  white  men  to  a 
feast,  and  then  attacking  them  unawares,  at  the 
same  time  desiring  him  to  use  the  favour  that  he 
had  found  in  their  eyes,  as  an  additional  means 
for  entrapping  them ;  this  he  positively  refused 
to  do,  and  boldly  told  the  assembled  chiefs,  that 
their  counsels  were  wicked  and  treacherous,  and 
that  he  would  in  no  wise  aid  or  abet  them."  In- 
dignant at  this  remonstrance  from  a  stripling, 
the  partisan  had  ordered  him  to  be  whipped  se- 


122 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


verely  wiili  thongs,  and  to  be  tied  hand  and  foot  j 
the  senleiice  was  executed  with  the  utmost 
cruelty,  but  he  had  contrived  early  in  the  morn- 
ing to  slip  ofl'  his  bands,  and  springing  to  his 
ieet,  he  seized  ilie  fleetest  horse  belonging  to  the 
partisan,  and  leaping  on  its  back,  galloped  off  to 
warn  his  protector  against  ihenu-iliiated  treach- 
ery. 

The  truth  of  the  tale  required  no  confirma- 
tion, for  the  glow  of  resentment  burned  loo  fierce- 
ly in  his  eye  to  be  dissembled,  and  the  light  cov- 
ering of  antelope  skin  which  he  had  thrown 
across  his  shoulders,  was  saturated  with  his 
blood.  Reginald's  first  natural  impulse  wa.s  to 
punish  the  perpetrators  of  this  outrage,  but  he 
checked  it  when  he  remembered  the  magnitude 
of  the  stake  that  bound  him  to  the  trail :  "  Tell 
him,  Pierre,"  said  he,  "  that  I  thank  him  for  his 


single  tongue,  and 


1  love  him  for  his  honest 
that 


brave  heart.    Ask  him  if  there  is  anything 
I  can  do  tor  him." 

"  Nothing,"  replied  the  youth  tc  this  question ; 
"  tell  him  that  I  have  warned  him  against  the 
forked  tongues  of  my  tribe,  because  he  gave  me 
my  life,  and  was  good  to  me,  but  I  mtisi  notlbr- 
get  that  his  hand  is  red  with  my  father'.s  blood. 
The  day  is  very  cloudy ;  the  Great  Spirit  has 
given  a'hard  task  to  tlie  son  of  the  fallen  chief; 
his  back  is  marked  like  the  back  of  a  slave ;  he 
lias  lived  long  enough." 

The  voice  of  the  youth  faltered  as  he  pro- 
nounced the  last  words;  the  thong  dropped  from 
his  feeble  grasp,  and  as  he  fell  to  the"  ground, 
the  wild  horse  broke  away  and  galloped  across 
the  valley.  "  He  is  dying,''  said  Reginald,  bend- 
ing over  him ;  "  see,  here  below  his  hunting  shirt 
is  the  broken  shaft  of  an  arrow,  which  one  of 
his  pursuers  has  shot  with  too  true  an  aim." 
While  he  spoke  the  young  Crow  breathed  his 
last. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

Shewing  how  Wingeniind  fared  in  the  Osage  Cnmp,  and 
^  Ihe    Issue  of  the  Dilemma  in  which  Prairie-biru  was 
placed  by  Mahtgr. 

We  trust  that  the  compassionate  reader  is 
now  desirous  to  learn  something  more  of  the 
fate  of  Prairie-bird  and  her  unfortunate  brother 
Wingenund,  whom  we  left  a  prisoner  in  the 
hiindsof  the  meiciless  chief  of  the  Osages.  For 
a  long  time  after  the  latter  left  her  tent,  his  part- 
ing threat  rung  in  her  ears,  that  she  must  on  the 
inorrow  give  her  consent  to  be  his  bride,  or  by 
her  refusal  consign  Wingenund  to  a  cruel  and 
lingering  death.  Her  busy  imagination  por- 
trayed in  vivid  colours  the  scene  of  torture,  and 
the  heroic  fortitude  with  which  she  knew  he 
•would  endure  it,  and  as  she  turned  from  that 
picture,  the  figure  of  Reginald  Brandon  rose  to 
her  view,  as  if  upbraiding  her  with  the  violation 
of  her  plighted  troth;  torn  by  these  contending 
struggles,  the  poor  girl  sobbed  convulsively,  and 
the  tears  forced  their  way  through  the  fingers 
r.'ith  which  she  in  vain  endeavoured,  either  to 
suppress  or  conceal  them.  Lita  threw  her  arms 
round  her  mistress's  neck,  and  strove  by  her  af- 
fection.ite,  yet  simple  endearments,  to  soothe  her 
grief;  for  a  long  time  they  proved  unsuccessful, 
but  when  at  last  she  whispered, 

"  "The  Great  Spirit  is  very  good ;  he  is  strong- 
er than  Mahi-ga,  let  Prairie-bird  speak  with  him 
as  she  often  did  when  the  B.ack  Father  was 
with  her." 


"True,  Lita,"  she  replied,  looking  gratefully 
at  the  Comanche  girl  through  her  tears;  "yeu 
remind  me  of  what  I  ought  not  to  have  forgot- 
ten." 

The  nex*  moment  saw  her  prostrate  upon 
her  couch — the  book  of  comfort  in  her  hand,  and 
her  earnest  prayers  ascending  toward  Heaven. 

She  rose  from  her  devotions  with  a  calmed 
and  strenthened  spirit ;  the  first  result  of  which 
was  a  desire  to  converse  with  Wingenund,  and 
to  decide  with  him  upon  the  morrow's  tearful 
alternative. 

Mahcga  willingly  consented  to  the  interview, 
justly  believing  that  it  would  rather  forward 
than  retard  his  plan  for  compelling  her  con.sent, 
compared  with  which  the  boy's  life  weighed  not 
a  feather  in  the  balance,  so  he  ordered  him  to  lie 
conveyed  to  her  tent;  and  the  guards  who  con- 
ducted him  having  informed  her  that  if  she  un- 
bound his  hands,  he  would  be  instantly  seized 
and  removcii,  they  retired  to  the  aperture,  await- 
ing the  termination  of  the  meeting  with  their 
habitual  listless  indifference. 

Prairie-bird  cared  not  whether  they  listened, 
as  she  spoke  to  her  young  brother  in  English,  of 
which  she  knew  that  they  understood  little  or 
nothing. 

"  Dear  Wingenund,"  she  said,  "you  heard  the 
thretit  uttered  by  that  savage,  after  he  struck 
you?" 

"  I  did." 

'  Is  there  no  device  or  means  by  which  we 
can  contrive  your  escape  j  we  may  trust  the 
Comanche  girl?" 

"I  do  not  see  any,"  replied  the  boy,  calmly; 
"the  eyes  if  the  Osage  chief  are  open,  the  hands 
of  his  warriors  are  many  and  ready.  It  does  not 
matter;  War-Eagle  and  Netis  will  be  here  soon, 
then  all  will  go  well." 

"  All  well  I"  said  Prairie-bird,  shuddering. 
"  Know  you  not  that  to-morrow  I  must  consent 
to  be  the  wife  of  the  O.sape,  or  be  the  cause  and 
the  witness  of  my  brother's  horrible  death  1" 

Wingenund  looked  at  her  with  unfeigned  sur- 
prise. 

"  The  daughter  of  Tamenund— the  Prairie- 
bird  sent  by  tnc  Great  Spirit,  from  an  unknown 
land,  to  dwell  among  the  lodges  of  the  Lenap6 
— she  who  has  learned  all  the  wise  words  of  the 
Black  Father— she  to  become  the  wife  of  that 
wandering  wolf!  Can  ray  sister's  heart  beat  to- 
wards him  ?" 

"  Heaven  knows  how  I  loathe  and  dread  him ! 
worse  than  the  most  poisonous  snake  in  the 
prairie." 

"  I  thought  so,"  he  replied.  "And  how  ought 
a  wife  to  t^el  towards  the  man  whom  she  mar- 
ries r 

"  To  feel  that  he  is  the  joy,  the  food,  the  treas- 
ure of  her  heart ;  the  object  of  her  secret  thoughts 
by  day,  of  her  dreams  by  night;  that  when  she 
prays' to  Heaven  his  name  is  on  her  lips;  that 
she  loves  him  as — as — " 

"As  Prairie-bird  love?  Netis,"  said  Winge- 
nund, smiling.  The  conscious  girl  blushed  at 
the  impassioned  eagerness  into  which  her  feel- 
ings had  betrayed  her,  but  she  did  not  attempt 
to  deny  her  brother's  conclusion,  and  he  con- 
tinued, more  gravely,  "Then  my  sister  could 
not  be  the  wile  of  the  Osage  wittiout  leading  a 
life  of  misery  and  falsehood.  No,  no,"  he  add- 
ed, his  bright  eye  kindling  as  he  spoke;  "let  to- 
morrow come;  Wingenund  is  ready;  he  will 
show  that  wolf  how  the  Lenap6  die.  Let  to- 
morrow come,  and  Mah^ga  shall  learn  that 


THE   PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


123 


king  gratefully 
;r  tears;  "yen 
to  have  forjjot- 

irostrate  upon 
her  hand,  and 

i-ard  Heaven. 

with  a  calmed 

esult  of  which 
ingenund,  and 

)rrow'8  tearful 

the  interview, 
ather  Ibrward 
ig  her  consent, 
fe  weighed  not 
lured  liitn  to  he 
lards  who  con- 
that  if  she  un- 
nstantly  seized 
perture,  await- 
ting  with  their 

they  listened, 
in  Englibb,  of 
rstood  little  or 

"  you  heard  the 
ifter  he  struck 


i  by  which  we 
may  trust  the 

le  boy,  calmly ; 
open, the  hands 
dy.  It  does  not 
111  be  here  soon, 

rd,  shuddering. 
I  must  consent 
«  the  cause  and 
ible  death  1" 
1  unfeigned  sur- 
d—the Prairie- 
tm  an  unknown 
I  of  the  Lenap6 
ise  words  of  the 
he  wife  of  that 
's  heart  beat  to- 

and  dread  him ! 
s  snake  in  the 

And  how  ought 
whom  she  mar- 

!  food,  the  treas- 

:  secret  thoughts 

that  when  she 

i  her  lips;  that 

,"  said  Winge- 
girl  blushed  at 
which  her  feel- 
did  not  attempt 
n,  and  he  con- 
Tiy  sister  could 
ittiout  leading  a 
io,  no,"  he  add- 
spoke;  "let  to- 
ready;  he  will 
36  die.  Let  to- 
ihall  learn  that 


"Wingennnd  despises  his  hate  as  much  as  Prai- 
ris-bird  scorns  his  love.  My  sister,  1  have  spo- 
ken it.  The  deed.«  of  my  fathers  are  be'bre  my 
eyes;  the  blood  of  the  ancient  people  is  in  my 
veins;  words  cannot  change  my  mind.  Fare- 
well! and  when  you  see  War-Lagl«  and  Netis, 
tell  them  that  the  Washgshe  fire  drew  neither 
complaint  nor  cry  from  the  lips  of  Wingenund." 

As  he  spoke,  his  agonized  sister  looked  up  in 
nis  face,  and  read  but  too  plainly  the  high,  un- 
conquerable determination  legibly  stamped  upon 
jts  proud,  expressive  features.  She  saw  that  the 
instinctive  feelings  of  his  race  had  triumphed 
over  all  the  gentler  impressions  which  she  and 
the  Missionary  had  endeavoured  to  implant; 
and,  knowing  that  now  she  might  as  well  at- 
tempt to  bend  a  stubborn  oak  as  to  efTect  any 
change  in  his  resolution,  she  embraced  him  in 
silence,  and  suffered  the  Osage  guards  to  lead 
him  from  the  tent. 

Composing  herself  by  a  strong  effort  of  self- 
command.  Prairie-bird  revolved  in  her  mind 
various  schemes  for  saving  the  life  of  her  devo- 
ted brother;  one  aller  another  she  considered 
and  rejected,  until  at  Length  the  idea  occurred  to 
her  that  perhaps  she  might  contrive  to  work 
upon  the  superstitious  fears  of  Mahega.  With 
this  view  she  examined  carefully  all  her  slender 
stock  of  instruments  and  curiosities— the  novelty 
of  the  burning-glass  was  past,  the  ticking  of  the 
watch  given  to  her  by  PpuI  Miiller,  though  it 
might  surprise  the  Osage,  could  not  be  expected 
to  alarm,  or  induce  him  to  abandon  his  deter- 
mination. Then  she  cast  her  despairing  eyes 
upon  the  few  volumes  which  formed  her  travel- 
ling library:  among  these  her  attention  was  ac- 
cidentally clirected  to  the  almanac  which  the 
good  Father  had  brought  to  her  from  the  settle- 
ments, when  he  gavd  her  the  watch,  and  she 
sighed  when  she  thought  how  ol\en  she  had 
amused  herself  in  the  spring,  comparing  them 
together,  calculating  the  lapse  of  time,  and  the 
changes  of  season  which  they  severally  announ- 
ced. Her  observation  of  the  sabbaths  had  been 
most  punctual,  nor  had  it  been  interrupted  by 
the  toils  and  privations  of  the  journey,  so  she 
had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  week  or  the  day 
then  passing.  "  July,"  she  exclaimed,  reading 
to  herself  half  aloud,  "  only  two  weeks  of  this 
sad  month  are  yet  past;  methinks  they  seem 
more  like  fourteen  months  than  fourteen  days! 
See  here,  too,  on  the  opposite  leaf,  prophecies 
regarding  wind  and  weather.  How  oflen  would 
the  dear  Father  point  these  out  to  me,  and  strive 
to  explain  the  wonderful  terms  in  nrhich  they 
describe  the  movements  of  the  stars;  he  was 
very  patient,  but  they  were  too  hard  for  me ;  I 
am  sure  he  tried  to  make  me  understand  these 
strange  words,  '  Aphelion,'  'Apogee,' '  Perigee,' 
but,  if  he  ever  succeeded,  I  have  forgotten  it  all. 
What  is  this  notice  in  larger  letters  1  To-mor- 
row, to-morrow,  it  stands  written, '  Total  eclipse 
of  the  sun,  visible  at  Philadelphia  9h.  42m.'— 
surely,  surely  it  will  be  visible  hen?  too.  I  will 
trust  to  it,  I  will  build  my  faith  upon  it,  and 
Wingenund's  life  shall  yet  be  saved."  So  say- 
ing, she  clasped  her  hands  together,  and  her 
lovely  countenance  beamed  with  re-awakened 
hope. 

Lita,  who  had  been  watching  her  mistress 
with  affectionate  solicitude,  and  listening  with 
chi'dish  wonder  to  her  half-uttered  soliloquy, 
was  overcome  with  surprise  at  this  sudden 
change  in  her  demeanour ;  she  thought  that 
Prairie-bird  had  been  conversing  with  sotne  un- 


seen being,  under  which  Impression  she  ap- 
proached, and  asked,  timidly, 

"  Has  Oliiipa  seen  a  Good  Sp'rit,  and  have 
her  ears  drunk  words  of  comfort  " 

"  Olitipa  has  received  words  jf  comfort,"  re- 
plied her  mistress,  kindly;  "they  seem  to  her 
words  from  Heaven;  ohe  trusts  that  she  may 
not  be  deceived;  she  will  address  her  evening 
prayer  to  the  Great  Merciful  Spl  t  above,  and 
retire  to  rest,  at  least  to  such  rest  as  it  may  be 
His  will  to  give  her." 

For  many  hours  aHer  Prairie-bird  had  been 
stretched  upon  her  furry  couch  did  her  thoughts 
dwell  upon  the  solar  eclipse,  now  the  founda- 
tion oi  her  hopes;  she  remembered  how  the 
Missionary  had  explained  to  her  that  it  was 
visible  at  one  hour  in  one  part  of  the  earth,  at  a 
diflferent  hour  in  another  part;  then  she  won- 
dered whether  at  the  spot  where  she  now  was  it 
would  be  seen  sooner  or  later  than  at  Philadel- 
phia. This  doubt  her  science  could  not  resolve, 
and  it  held  her  long  in  anxious  suspense;  but 
overwearied  nature  at  length  claimed  her  rights, 
and  she  sank  into  an  unrefreshing  dreamy  slum- 
ber, in  which  the  images  of  Wingenund,  Ma- 
hega, and  Reginald  Brandon  were  stalking  con- 
fusedly over  an  eclipsed  and  darkened  region 
of  earth. 

Early  on  the  following  morning,  Mah6ga, 
who  had  resolved  not  to  lose  this  favourable  op- 
portunity for  working  upon  the  fears  of  Prairie- 
bird,  caused  a  pile  of  dry  branches  of  wood  to 
be  placed  round  a  tree,  which  stood  nearly  op- 
posite to  her  tent,  to  which  he  ordered  W'^inge- 
nund  to  be  secured  with  thongs  of  bison-hide ; 
after  which  he  and  his  warriors  seated  them- 
selves in  a  semicircle  before  their  victim,  pass- 
ing the  pipe  deliberately  from  mouth  to  mouth, 
as  if  to  enjoy  his  suspense  and  terror. 

If  such  was  their  object,  it  met  with  little  suc- 
cess, for  the  young  Delaware,  in  the  brightest 
day  of  his  youth  and  freedom,  had  never  worn 
so  proud  and  lofty  an  air  as  that  which  now  sat 
enthroned  upon  his  brow. 

"  A  thousand  warriors  of  the  Lenape,  whose 
blood  is  in  my  veins,  have  gone  before  me  to 
the  happy  fields ;  they  knew  not  f^ar,  and  I,  the 
last  of  their  children,  will  bring  no  shame  upon 
their  race.  When  I  come  they  will  say, '  Wel- 
come, Wingenund!'  and  before  many  winters 
and  summers  are  passed,  War-Eagle  and  Netis, 
Prairie-bird  and  the  Black  Father,  will  join  me, 
and  the  blue  eyes  of  the  Lily  of  Mooshanne  will 
be  there  also,  and  we  will  dwell  in  a  land  of 
streams  and  flowers,  of  numberless  deer  and 
abundant  corn,  unvexed  by  cold,  or  want,  or 
pain." 

Such  was  the  vision  that  rose  before  the  men- 
tal eye  of  the  youth,  and  so  completely  was  he 
engrossed  by  it,  that  he  took  not  the  slightest 
notice  of  the  group  assembled  to  put  him  to  a 
slow  and  agonizing  death. 

Meanwhile  Prairie-bird  having  prayed  ear- 
nestly to  Heaver>  to  support  her,  and  pardon  the 
deceit  which  she  was  about  to  practise,  dressed 
herself  with  more  than  usual  care,  and  coming 
forth  from  her  tent,  stood  before  Mahega  with  a 
dignity  of  demeanour,  to  the  effect  of  which  even 
his  fierce  and  intractable  nature  was  not  insen- 
sible. He  rose  not,  however,  at  her  approach, 
but  contented  himself  with  inquiring,  "  Has 
Olitipa  come  to  save  her  brother's  life,  or  to  kill 
him  r 

"  Neither,"  replied  the  maiden  firmly ;  "  she  is 
come  to  give  good  counsel  to  Malaga ;  let  him 
beware  how  he  neglects  it!" 


I'l 


194 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


"Let  not  Olitipa's  speech  travel  in  circles," 
said  the  angry  chief.  "Mah'^ga  has  said  that 
thi3  day  she  should  consent  to  be  his  wife,  or  she 
must  see  that  feeble  boy  burned  before  her  eyes, 
— there  are  but  two  pa'hs,— which  does  Olitipa 
riioose  1" 

"  The  feet  of  foolish  men  often  wander  where 
there  is  no  path  at  all,"  replied  Prairie-bird ;  and 
she  added,  with  solemnity,  pointing  upward  to 
Heaven:  "There  is  only  one  path  and  one 
Guid:,  the  Great  Spirit  who  dwells  above  I" 

Those  of  the  Osages  who  were  familiar  with 
die  Delaware  tongue  in  which  she  was  speaking, 
looked  at  each  other,  as  if  wondering  at  her 
words,  but  Mahcga,  whose  passion  was  only  in- 
creased by  her  CAneeding  beauty,  answered  ve- 
hemently, 

"  It  is  easy  for  Olitipa  to  talk  and  to  make 
children  believe  that  her  words  are  those  of  the 
Great  Spirit— Mahega  is  not  a  child." 

"  If  he  compare  Bis  strength  with  that  of  the 
Great  Spirit,"  said  the  maiden  boldly,  "  Mahi- 
ga's  is  less  than  the  least  finger  of  a  child.  Who 
can  tell  the  power  of  the  Great  Spirit  1  The 
strong  wind  is  his  breath, — the  thunder  is  his 
voice,  the  -sun  is  his  smile.  If  He  is  angry,  and 
withdraws  the  sun,  day  is  turned  into  night — 
darkness  and  fear  dwell  in  the  hearts  of  men." 

The  energy  of  her  language  and  manner  were 
not  altogether  without  their  pffect  even  upon  the 
stern  nature  of  Mah6ga ;  nevertheless,  he  r^olied, 

"These  are  but  the  notes  of  singing-birds. 
Mahega  waits  for  the  choice  of  Olitipa, — she 
becomes  his  wife,  or  the  fire  is  kindled  at  the 
leet  of  Wingenund." 

Prairie-bird  cast  an  anxious  glance  athwart 
the  blue  vault  above;  not  a  cloud  was  in  the 
sky,  and  the  sun  shone  with  the  full  brightness 
of  an  American  July.  She  would  not  yet  aban- 
don hope,  but,  making  a  strong  and  successful 
effort  to  maintain  her  composure,  she  said  in  a 
firm,  impressive  tone,  "Mahega,  let  there  be  a 
bargain  between  us ;  you  seek  Olitipa  for  a  wife ; 
if  it  be  the  will  of  the  Great  Spirit,  she  will  sub- 
mit, and  her  brother's  life  will  be  spared;  but  if 
the  Great  Spirit  is  displeased,  and  shows  his  an- 
ger by  drawing  a  cloak  over  the  face  of  the.t 
bright  sun  in  the  heavens,  Mahiga  will  obey  his 
will,  and  let  the  brother  of  Olitipa  go  away  un- 
hurt.   Is  Mahega  content  that 't  shall  be  so  V 

"  He  is,"  replied  the  chief, "  if  the  sign  be  such 
as  he,  and  the  Osage  warriors  may  look  upon 
with  wonder;  not  a  .list,  or  dark  cloud." 

"  It  will  be  such  as  will  make  Mah4ga  trem- 
ble," replied  the  maiden  with  dignity.  "  Warri- 
ors of  the  Washashe,  you  have  heard  the  treaty. 
Before  the  sun  has  reached  yon  western  peak, 
the  answer  of  the  Great  Spirit  will  be  known." 
Having  thus  spoken,  she  withdrew  into  the  tent, 
leaving  the  Osages  gazing  upon  each  other  with 
undisguised  awe  and  amazement. 

The  maiden  threw  herself  upon  her  couch  in 
an  agony  of  suspense,  greater  than  can  be  de- 
scribed !  It  was  terrible  to  think  that  her  every 
hope  of  escaping  from  the  dreadful  alternative, 
was  staked  upon  a  sentence  in  an  almanac,  of 
the  correctness  of  which  she  had  not  the  slight- 
est power  to  judge.  Even  the  well-intentioned 
attempts  at  consolation  made  by  her  affectionate 
Lita,  were  of  no  avail ;  her  unhappy  mistress 
entreated  her  to  remain  at  the  door  of  the  tent, 
and  report  whatever  might  occur ;  within  and 
without  a  profound  stillness  reigned.  The  pris- 
oner stood  motionless  by  the  sapling  to  wnich 
he  was  bound ;  Mahega  smoked  his  pipe  in  the 


full  confidence  of  anticipated  tr'umph,  surround' 
ed  by  his  warriors,  who,  less  f.cepiical,  or  more 
superstitious  than  their  chief,  ooked  and  listen- 
ed.'expectin^  some  confirmation  of  the  last  words 
of  Prairie-bird. 

Although  the  sun  could  not  be  opposite  the 
rock  which  she  had  pointed  out  for  nearly  three 
hours,  of  which  not  a  fourth  part  had  yet  elaps- 
ed, the  anxious  girl  began  to  imagine  that  hope 
was  at  an  end.  Visions  of  future  degradation 
and  misery  shot  through  her  brain;  she  tore 
from  her  hot  brow  the  fillet  that  confined  her 
hair,  which  floated  in  glossy  luxuriance  over 
her  shoulders.  The  reproaches  of  Reginald 
Brandon  rung  in  her  ears.  The  loathed  em- 
brace of  Mahdga  crept  over  her  shuddering 
frame  1  At  this  crisis  her  eye  fell  upon  the 
handle  of  the  sharp  knife  concealed  in  her  bo- 
som ;  she  drew  it  forth;  the  triumph  of  the  pow- 
ers of  Evil  seemed  at  hand,  when  a  cry  of  sur- 
prise and  terror  from  Litt.  recalled  her  wander- 
ing senses.  She  sprang  to  the  door;  visible 
darkness  was  spreading  over  the  scene,  and  the 
terrified  Osages  were  looking  upward  to  the  pf :- 
tially  obscured  disk  of  the  sun,  over  the  centre 
of  which  an  opaque  circular  body  was  spread  ; 
a  brilliant  ring  being  left  around  its  outer  ridge." 

Prairie-bird  gazed  upon  the  wondrous  spec- 
tacle like  one  entranced;  the  late  fearful  strug- 
gle in  her  breast  had  given  a  supernatural  lustre 
to  her  eye;  her  frame  was  still  under  high  ner- 
vous excitement,  and  as,  with  long  hair  floating 
down  her  back,  she  pointed  with  one  hand  to 
the  eclipsed  sun,  and  with  the  other  to  Mahega, 
well  might  the  savage  imagine  that  he  saw  be- 
fore him  a  Prophetess  whose  will  the  Spirit  of 
Fire  must  obey.  Under  the  influence  of  awe 
and  dread,  which  he  strove  in  vain  to  conceal, 
he  moved  forward  and  said  to  her,  "  It  is  enough ! 
let  Olitipa  speak  to  the  Great  Spirit  that  the 
light  may  come  again." 

The  sound  of  his  voice  recalled  the  mind  of 
Prairie-bird  to  a  consciousness  of  what  had 
passed.  She  answered  not,  but  with  a  gesture 
of  assent  motioned  to  him  to  withdraw,  and  sup- 
tiorting  herself  against  one  of  the  trees  that  grew 
in  front  of  her  tent,  she  knelt  beside  it,  and  veil- 
ing iier  face  in  the  redundant  tresses  of  her  hair, 
found  relief  in  a  flood  of  tears.  Overwhelmed 
by  a  sense  of  the  merciful  interposition  by  which 
she  and  her  brother  had  been  saved,  and  by  a 
feeling  of  deep  contrition  for  the  sudden  impulse 
of  self-destruction  to  which,  in  a  moment  of 
mental  agony,  she  had  yielded,  she  thought  nei- 
ther of  the  continuance  nor  the  withdrawing  of 
the  dark  phenomenon  of  external  nature,  but  of 
the  evil  gloom  which  had  for  the  time  eclipsed 
the  light  of  grace  in  her  heart,  and  the  tears 
which  bedewed  her  cheek  were  tears  of  mingled 
penitence  and  gratitude. 

Still,  Nature  held  on  her  appointed  course ; 
after  a  few  minutes  the  moon  passed  onward  in 
her  path,  and  the  rays  of  the  sun,  no  longer  in- 
tercepted, again  shed  their  brightness  over  earth 
and  sky. 

The  Osages,  attributing  these  effects  to  the 
communing  of  Prairie-bird  with  the  Great  Spirit, 


*  It  is  unnecessary  to  inform  the  reader  thnt  neither  the 
date  nor  the  description  of  this  solar  eclipse  is  intended  to 
challenge  scientific  criticism.  Merely  the  jencrnl  features 
are  preserved  of  that  kind  of  solar  eclipse,  which  is  tenn- 
ed  "annular,"  and  which  takes  place  when  the  eclipse, 
though  central,  is  not  total,  on  account  of  the  moon  not  lie- 
ing  near  enough  to  hide  the  whole  of  the  sun,  in  which 
case  part  of  the  latter  is  s«eu  as  a  bright  ring  round  the 
part  hidden  by  the  moon. 


nph,  surround- 

K ileal,  or  more 
ed  and  listen- 
fibelast  wordf 

opposite  the 
sr  nearly  three 
had  yet  ejaps- 
Kine  that  hope 
re  degradation 
ain;   she  tore 
it  confined  her 
xuriance  over 
of  Reginald 
loathed  em< 
er  shuddering 
fell  upon  the 
led  in  her  bo- 
ph  of  the  pow- 
n  a  cry  ofsur- 
id  her  wander- 
door  j   visible 
scene,  and  the 
ard  to  thep"r- 
ver  the  centre 
y  was  spread ; 
ts  outer  ridge.* 
'ondrous  spec- 
B  fearful  strug- 
irnatural  lustre 
inder  high  ner- 
ig  hair  floating 
li  one  hand  to 
ler  to  Mah^ga, 
hat  he  saw  be- 
1  the  Spirit  of 
luence  of  awe 
ftin  to  conceal, 
"  It  is  enough! 
ISpirit  that  the 

id  the  mind  of 
I  of  what  had 
with  a  gesture 
idraw,  and  sup- 
trees  that  grew 
de  it,  and  veil- 
ises  of  her  hair. 

Overwhelmed 
sition  by  which 
ived,  and  by  a 
udden  impiilsc 
a  moment  of 
lie  thought  nei- 
■ithdrawing  of 
nature,  but  of 
I  time  eclipsed 

and  the  tears 
ars  of  mingled 

)inted  course; 
sed  onward  in 
,  no  longer  in- 
less  over  earth 

effects  to  the 
e  Great  Spirit, 

r  that  neither  tho 
pse  is  intended  to 
9  (general  features 
e,  wliich  is  tenn- 
;hen  the  eclipse, 
'tho  moon  not  Ite- 
the  sun,  in  which 
U  rini;  round  the 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


stood  in  silent  awe  as  she  arose  to  retire  to  her 
lent,  and  her  secret  humiliation  became,  in  their 
eyes,  her  triumph. 

Mah^ga,  finding  that  he  had  no  pretext  for  re- 
fusing to  release  Wingenund,  and  that  his  war- 
ri(  rs  evidently  expected  him  to  fulfil  his  prom- 
ise, ordered  tiie  youth  to  be  unbound ;  and  in  the 
height  of  his  generosity,  desired  that  some  food 
might  be  offered  to  him,  which  Wingenund 
scornf-lly  rejected 

The  Osage  chief  having  called  aside  two  of 
those  most  devoted  to  him,  spoke  to  them  a  few 
words  apart:  and  then  addre.ssiiig  his  liberated 
prisoner  in  the  Delaware  tongue,  he  said,  "The 
Osage  warriors  will  conduct  Wingenund  two 
hours  on  his  journey;  he  will  then  be  free  to  go 
where  he  likes,  but  if  he  is  again  found  skulk- 
i.ig  round  the  Osage  camp,  nothing  shall  save 
his  lite." 

Wingenund  knew  that  he  was  to  be  turned 
loose  in  a  desolate  region,  unarmed  and  half- 
starved,  but  his  proud  spirit  would  not  permit 
him  to  ask  the  slightest  boon  of  his  enemy;  and 
without  a  word  of  reply,  without  even  directing 
a  look  towards  his  sister's  tent,  he  turnrd  and 
followed  his  conductors. 

For  several  miles  they  pursued  the  back-foot* 
"■r  the  trail  by  which  they  had  come  from  the  , 
eastward,  Wingenund  being  placed  in  the  cen- 
tre without  weapon  of  any  kind,  and  the  two 
Osages  marching  one  before,  and  the  other  be- 
hind him,  being  well  armed  with  bow,  knife,  and 
tomahawk.  The  vouth,  unconscious  that  they 
had  secret  instructions  from  Mahi-ga.to  kill  him 
as  soon  as  they  reached  a  convenient  and  suffi- 
ciently distant  spot,  made  no  attempt  to  "scape, 
but  Wttlked  quietly  between  them,  con  "ring 
within  himself  whether  he  should  endea  jr  to 
rejoin  his  party,  or  persevere  in  hovering  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Osages  ;  if  a  suspicion  of 
Alahtga's  treachery  did  cross  his  mind,  he  al- 
lowed it  not  to  influence  his  bearing,  for  he 
moved  steadily  forward,  not  even  turning  his 
head  to  watch  the  Osage  behind  him. 

About  five  or  six  miles  from  Mah^ga's  camp, 
the  trail  passed  along  the  edge  of  a  low  wood 
which  skirted  the  banks  of  the  same  stream  that 
flowed  through  the  upper  valley.  This  was  the 
place  where  they  proposed  to  kill  their  prisoner, 
and  hide  his  boay  in  the  bushes,  the  chief  hav- 
ing commanded  that  the  murder  should  be  kept 
secret  from  the  rest  of  his  party.  They  had  just 
passed  a  thicket  on  the  side  of  the  trail,  when 
the  terrible  battle-cry  of  War-Eagle  rose  behind 
them,  and  his  tomahawk  clove  the  skull  of  the 
Osage  in  the  rear,  duick  as  thought,  Winge- 
nund sprang  upon  the  one  in  front,  and  pinion- 
ed his  arms  ;  the  Osage  tried  in  vain  to  disen- 
sage  them  from  the  gras-pof  his  light  and  active 
opponent.  Brief  was  the  struggle,  for  the  dead- 
ly weapon  of  the  Delaware  chief  descended 
again,  and  the  second  Osage  lay  a  corpse  upon 
the  trail. 

The  brothers,  having  exchanged  an  afl'ection- 
ate  but  hasty  greeting,  took  the  spoils  from  their 
enemies  according  to  Indian  fashion,  War-Eagle 
contenting  himself  with  their  scalps,  and  his 
blather  taking  such  wenpons  and  articles  of 


*  When  a  trail  is  made  by  a  party  on  a  march,  the  graxs 
is,  of  course,  trodden  down  in  the  same  direction  as  that  in 
^iliir.h  they  are  going.  A  party  travelling-  along  it  from 
the  opposite  quarter,  are  said  to  take  the  liack-foot  of  the 
trail.  The  author  heard  the  expression  used  by  an  experi- 
enced Western  hunter,  but  is  not  aware  whether  it  is  in 
common  use  ;  at  all  eve"'s  it  explaius  its  own  meaning  sig- 
nificantly enaugh. 


dress  as  his  present  condition  rendered  necessa- 
ry Ibr  his  comfort  and  defence ;  after  which, 
they  threw  the  two  bodies  into  the  thicket  into 
which  the  Osages  had  intended  to  cast  that  of 
Wingenund,  and  continued  their  course  at  a 
rapid  rate  towards  the  eastward,  War-Eagle  re- 
lating as  they  went  the  events  which  had  brought 
him  so  opportunely  to  the  scene  of  action  ;  they 
were  briefly  as  follows : 

When  he  left  his  parly,  he  never  halted  nor 
slackened  his  speed  until  he  saw  the  smoke  of 
the  O.sage  camp-fire ;  concealing  himself  in  the 
adjoining  wood,  he  had  witnessed  all  the  sur- 
prising occurrences  of  the  day ;  and  in  the  event 
of  the  Osages  actually  proceeding  to  set  fire  to 
the  faggots  around  Wingenund,  he  was  pre- 
pared to  rush  upon  them  alone,  and  either  res- 
cue his  brother  or  perish  with  him ;  but,  with 
the  true  self-command  and  foresight  of  an  In- 
dian, he  kept  this  desperate  and  almo.st  hopeless 
attempt  for  the  last  chance;  and  when  to  his 
surpri.se  and  joy  he  saw  the  prisoner  sent  upon 
the  trail  with  a  guard  of  only  two  Osages,  he 
took  advantage  of  a  bank  of  rising  ground,  be- 
hind which  he  crept,  and  moving  swiilly  forward 
under,  its  shelter,  gained  unnerceived  the  thicket, 
where  he  had  so  successfully  waylaid  them. 

Fearing  a  pursuit,  the  brothers  never  abated 
their  speed  throughout  the  evening,  or  the  early 
portion  of  the  night.  A  few  hours  before  dawn, 
some  scattered  hushes  near  the  path  offering 
them  a  precarious  shelter,  they  lay  down  to 
snatch  a  short  repose ;  a  moulhfiil  of  dried  bison- 
meat,  which  remained  in  War  Eagle's  belt,  he 
gave  to  his  exhausted  brother ;  and  one  blanket 
covering  them  both,  they  slept  soundly  and  un- 
disturbed until  the  sun  was  high  in  heaven. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

MahAga  fimli  the  Bodies  of  his  two  Followers  slain  by  War- 
Eagle.— Some  Reflections  on  Indian  Character.— War- 
Eagle  returns  to  his  Friends,  and  the  Osage  <;hief  push- 
es his  Way  further  into  the  Mountains. 

Mahega  waited  anxiously  the  return  of  the 
two  men  whom  he  had  sent  with  Wingenund, 
being  desirous  to  learn  whether  they  had  faith- 
fully executed  the  treacherous  commission  with 
which  he  had  entrusted  them.  When  he  found 
that  the  evening  passed  away,  and  that  the  suc- 
cessive hours  of  the  night  brought  no  intelligence 
of  them,  he  became  alarmed  lest  thiy  should 
have  fallen  in  with  some  hostile  band  of  Indians, 
an  occurrence  which,  in  addition  to  the  loss  of 
two  of  his  warriors,  would  threaten  imminent 
danger  to  his  whole  party. 

At  the  earliest  peep  of  dawn  he  set  out  in 
search  of  them,  accompanied  by  three  of  his  fol- 
lowers, giving  orders  to  the  remainder  to  observe 
a  strict  watch  during  his  absence.  Traversing 
the  little  valley  in  front  of  his  camp  with  hasty 
strides,  he  struck  into  the  eastward  trail,  and 
Ibllowed  it  with  unabated  speed  until  he  reached 
the  spot  where  the  deadly  struggle  of  the  prece- 
ding evening  had  arisen.  Here  the  indications 
were  too  evident  to  leave  a  moment's  doubt  upon 
his  mind  ;  the  grass  on  and  beside  the  trail  was 
stained  with  blood,  and  from  the  neighbouring 
thicket  were  heard  the  snarls  and  yells  of  a  pack 
of  wolves  quarrelling  over  their  horrible  ban- 
quet; while  high  in  air  several  buzzards  were 
wheeling  round  and  round,  as  if  endeavouring 
to  find  courage  to  descend  and  dispute  the  prey 
with  the  quadruped  spoilers. 


J    * 


:t 


196 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


Dathing  into  tha  thicket,  and  driving  the  snarl- 
ing wulves  before  him,  Mahi'ga  luund  his  woritt 
learx  reiilized,  and  his  horrur-struclc  warriors 
stood  in  Nitence  beside  the  mangled  remains  of 
thi'ir  comrades.  The  conduct  of  Indians  under 
such  circuioiilanceg  in  uncertain  and  various  as 
their  mood,  their  impulse,  their  tribe,  and  their 
ngc.  Sometimes  they  indul(^e  in  I'earl'ul  threats 
of  vengeance  ;  sonieiimes  in  the  most  wuful 
howlings  and  lamentations ;  at  others,  they  ob- 
nerve  a  silence  as  still  as  the  death  which  they 
are  coniempluting. 

The  Usages,  on  this  occasion,  following  the 
example  ot  their  len.ler,  spoke  not  a  word,  al- 
though the  sight  before  them  (far  too  horrible 
for  description)  was  sufHcient  to  try  tlie  strong- 
est nerves;  it  was  chiclly  by  the  immoveable 
iirmness  of  his  character,  lliat  Mahuga  had  gain- 
ed and  maintained  the  despotic  inAuencc  wliich 
he  exercised  over  his  followers;  neither  did  it 
fail  him  on  this  occasion,  for  he  proceeded  to 
examine  the  mutilated  remains  of  his  deceased 
•warriors  wilh  his  usual  coolness  and  sagacity, 
in  order  that  he  might  discover  by  whom  the 
deed  bad  been  perpetrated  ;  on  a  close  inspec- 
tion of  the  skulls,  no  found  that  both  had  been 
i'ractured  by  a  tomahawk  blow,  which  had  fall- 
en in  a  direction  almost  vertical,  but  rather  at  a 
posterior  angle  of  inclination,  whence  he  imme- 
diately inferred  that  ihey  had  been  killed  by 
some  enemy  who  had  surprised  and  attacked 
them  from  behind,  and  not  in  an  open  fight;  al- 
ter a  long  and  careful  observation  of  the  frac- 
tures he  was  of  opinion  that  they  were  made  by 
the  same  weapon.  This  inference,  however,  he 
kept  to  himself,  and  directing  two  of  his  follow- 
ers to  pay  such  offices  to  the  dead,  as  were  pos- 
sible under  the  circumstances,  and  then  to  return 
to  the  camp,  he  went  forward  with  the  remain- 
ing Oaage,  to  satisfy  himself  as  to  the  manner  in 
winch  tlie  calamity  had  occurred ;  he  remem- 
bered to  have  seen  Wingenund  starting  on  the 
trail,  and  although  he  knew  him  to  be  bold  and 
active,  he  could  not  for  an  instant  entertain  the 
belief  that  a  stripling,  wearied  with  a  sleepless 
in'ght,  stiff  from  being  so  many  hours  bound 
with  thongs,  and  totally  unprovided  with  arms, 
could  have  killed  his  two  guards,  who  were 
strong,  wary,  and  well-armed  men ! 

For  soiiie  distance  Mah^ga  continued  his 
coursA  in  moody  silence,  the  beaten  trail  afford- 
ing no  indication  sufficient  to  guide  him  in  his 
conjecture,  but  at  length  he  reached  a  place 
where  it  crossed  a  small  rivulet,  the  flat  banks 
of  which  were  sprinkled  with  a  kind  of  gravelly 
sand ;  here  he  paused  and  examined  every  inch 
of  the  ground  with  the  eye  of  a  lynx,  nor  was  it 
long  before  he  detected  the  foot-prints  which  he 
sought,  a  smaller  and  a  greater,  the  latter  shew- 
ing longer  intervals  and  a  deeper  impression. 

Rising  from  his  stooping  scrutiny,  the  eyes  of 
the  chief  glared  wilh  tiiry,  as  be  turned  to  his 
follower,  and  in  a  voice  almost  inarticulate  with 
rage,  groaned  the  hated  name  of  War-Eagle. 

"  It  is,"  he  continued  vehemently,  "  plain  as 
the  moon  in  the  sky,  the  trail  of  the  cursed  Le- 
napi',  and  the  light  foot  of  his  brother ;  see  here, 
War-Eagle  has  walked  through  the  water,  and 
Wingenund  has  sprung  over  it,  the  dew  has 
fallen  since  Ihey  passed,  they  are  far  before  us — 
but  Mahega  must  not  sleep  till  their  scalps  are 
in  his  belt.  Is  Toweno  ready!"  inquired  the 
fierce  chief,  lightening  his  girdle  while  he  loos- 
ened the  tomahawk  suspended  from  it. 

"  Toweno  is  ready,"  replied  the  Indian,  "  to 


(ighl  or  run  by  the  side  of  Mnb^ga,  from  morn- 
ing until  night ;  liis  hand  is  not  weak  nor  are  his 
feet  .ilow ;  but  the  Great  Chief  must  not  let  the 
angry  spirit  bring  a  cloud  before  his  eye*," 

"  Let  Toweno  speak,"  said  MnlK'ga  control- 
ling  his  fierce  impatience, "  his  words  will  IJnd  a 
path  to  open  ears." 

"  War-Eagle,"  pursued  the  Osage,  "  iii  swifl  of 
foot  and  cunning  as  a  iwice-trnpped  wolf.  He 
is  not  come  upon  this  far  war-path  alone,  Win- 
genund has  been  nrowling  round  the  camp,  and 
while  Mah^ga  follows  the  trail  of  War-Eugle, 
the  youth  may  guide  the  pale-face  warrior  called 
Netis,  with  his  band,  to  the  encampment  of  the 
Washashe.  Toweno  has  need  of  no  more 
words." 

Mahega  saw  in  a  moment  the  truth  and  force 
of  his  follower's  suggestion,  and  smothering  for 
the  moment  his  passion  for  revenge,  he  resolved 
to  return  at  once  to  his  encampment. 

"  The  counsel  of  Toweno  is  good,"  said  he  j 
"  when  a  friend  speaks,  Mah^ga  is  nut  deaf." 

Among  the  features  that  distinguish  the  char- 
acter of  the  North  American  Indian,  there  is 
none  more  remarkable,  none  more  worthy  the 
study  and  the  imitation  of  civilized  man,  thatt 
the  patience  and  impartial  candour  with  which 
they  listen  to  the  advice  or  opinion  of  others: 
although  so  prone  to  be  swayed  by  passion  and 
governed  by  impulse,  the  Indian  seems  lo  have 
a  wonderful  powe."  of  laying  aside  these  predis- 
positions, when  discussing  a  matter  privately 
with  a  friend,  or  openly  in  council.  The  deco- 
rum with  which  all  their  public  discussions  are 
conducted,  has  been  observed  and  recorded  by 
every  writer  familiar  with  their  habits,  from  the 
time  of  Charlevoix,  and  of  the  interesting  "Let- 
ties  Edifiantes,"  to  the  present  day.  Golden, 
Tanner,  Mackenzie,  and  many  others  who  have 
described  the  Northern  tribes,  concur  in  bearing 
their  testimony  to  the  truth  of  thij  observation; 
Heckewalder,  Loskiel,  Smith,  Jefferson,  confirm 
it  in  the  central  region ;  and  the  Spanish  writers 
bear  frequent  witness  to  it  in  their  descriptions 
of  the  Southern  tribes,  whom  they  met  with  in 
their  campaigns  in  Florida,  am',  ih-i  adjacent 
country.  In  reading  the  r^ccoun  iven  of  the 
numerous  tribes  inbabitin,;;  the  v.'st  region  be- 
tween the  Mississippi  and  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
by  Clarke,  Lewis,  Long,  and  others,  the  same 
observation  forces  itself  upon  us  almost  at  every 
page,  and  it  is  the  more  remarkable  when  we 
reflect  upon  two  facts  —  first,  that  we  And  this 
characteristic  attributed  to  forty  or  fifty  different 
nations  inhabiting  a  continent  larger  than  Eu- 
rope, by  the  concurring  testimony  of  travellers 
from  different  countries,  and  holding  the  m«st 
opposite  opinions. 

secondly,  we  do  not  find  a  similar  characlet- 
istic  distinguishing  other  savages,  or  nomadic 
tribes  in  Asia,  Africa,  or  the  Pacific  Islands. 

There  is  not  a  public  body  in  Europe,  from 
the  British  Parliament  down  to  the  smallest 
burgh  meeting,  that  might  not  study  with  advan- 
tage the  proceedings  of  an  Indian  council, 
whether  as  described  in  the  faithful  pages  of  the 
German  missionaries,  or,  as  it  may  still  be  seen  by 
any  one  who  has  leisare  and  inclination  to  visit 
those  remote  regions,  where  the  Indian  charac- 
ter is  least  changed  and  contaminated  by  inter- 
course with  the  whites.  Such  an  observer 
would  find  his  attention  attracted  to  two  remark- 
able facts;  first,  that  no  speaker  is  ever  inter- 
rupted; and,  secondly,  that  only  those  speak 
who  from  age,  rank,  and  deeds,  are  entitled  to 
be  listened  to. 


THE    PRAIRIE-DIRD. 


137 


,  from  mom- 
)k  nor  arc  his 
St  not  let  the 
is  eyci." 
Ufffa  control- 
ds  will  IJnd  a 

e,"  Is  swift  of 
ed  wolf.  He 
alone.  Win- 
he  camp,  and 
'  War-Eagle, 
warrior  called 
pinent  of  the 
of  no  more 

uth  and  force 
nothering  for 
t,  he  re&olved. 
It. 

od,"  said  he; 
I  not  deaf." 
jish  the  char- 
lian,  (here  is 
•e  worthy  the 
ed  mnii,  than 
ir  with  which 
on  of  others : 
Y  pas.sion  and 
leeins  to  have 
these  predis- 
tlcr  privately 
I.  The  deco- 
iscussions  are 
\  recorded  by 
ibit.s,  from  the 
(resting  "Let- 
Jay.  Colden, 
lefs  who  have 
:ur  in  bearing 
i  observation ; 
erson,  confirm 
panish  writers 
ir  descriptions 
J'  met  with  in 
tliv'  adjacent 
,  iven  of  the 
^st  frgion  be- 
ry  Mountains, 
ers,  the  same 
most  at  every 
able  when  we 
t  we  find  this 

■  fifty  different 
rger  than  Eu- 
r  of  travellers 
ling  the  incst 

lar  character- 
;,  or  nomadic 
Re  Islands. 
Europe,  from 
the  smallest 
y  with  advan- 
dian  council, 
il  pages  of  the 
still  be  seen  bjr 
nation  to  visit 
ndian  charae- 
ated  by  inter- 
an  observer 
o  two  remark- 
is  ever  inter- 

■  those  speak 
ire  entitled  to 


It  is  a  popular  and  plautible  reply  to  sny  that 
discussions  concerning  the  complicutetl  business 
uf  a  great  countrv,  cannot  be  carried  un  like  the 
uniinportunt  "lnlks"of  iheae  savage  tribes;  this 
reasoning  is  shallow  and  full  of  Nuplil^'iry,  for 
many  of  the  Indian  councils  above  referred  to 
iiavu  involved  all  the  dsnrcst  interests  uf  the  na- 
tion )  their  soil,  their  prit'e,  their  anrestral  tradi- 
tions, all  were  at  stake,  perhaps  all  with  liitlc 
more  than  a  nominal  alternative,  to  be  bartered 
lor  the  grasping  white  man's  beads,  whiskey, 
and  subsidies.  In  these  councilr,  every  listening 
Indian  must  have  felt  that  his  own  liome,  the 
lodge  built  by  his  father,  and  the  patch  of  maize 
cultivated  by  his  family,  were  dependent  on  the 
i>sue  of  the  negotiation,  and  yet  it  is  not  upon 
record  that  a  chief,  or  elder-brave  was  ever  in- 
terrupted in  his  speech,  or  that  the  decorum  of 
the  council  was  infringed  by  irregularity  or  tu- 
mult on  the  part  of  those  who  might  iiave  con- 
sidered themselves  injured  and  aggrieved. 

Even  ip  regard  to  time,  it  is  a  great  mistake 
to  suppose  that  anything  is  gained  by  interrup- 
tion, for  an  obstinate  talker  will  carry  his  point 
in  the  end ;  and  although  the  persevering  excla- 
mations, and  groanings,  and  Growings  ol  nn  im- 
patient House  of  Commons,  may  succeed  in 
drowning  his  voice,  and  forcing  him  to  sit  down. 
tie  will  rise  again  on  some  other  occasion  and 
inflict  upon  his  hearers  a  speech  whose  bulk  and 
liitierness  are  both  increased  by  the  suppressed 
terinentation  which  it  has  undergone. 

Leaving  the  moody  and  dispirited  Osage  chief 
to  find  his  way  back  to  his  encampment,  we  will 
now  return  to  Reginald  Brandon  and  his  partv, 
whom  we  left  startinfr  westward  on  the  trail, 
inarching  in  regular  order,  and  prepared,  without 
delaying  their  progress,  to  repel  any  hostile  at- 
Ifinpt  on  the  part  of  the  Crows.  The  latter 
'..cid  seemed,  nowever,  so  impressed  with  the 
i'.rength,  discipline,  and  appointments  of  the 
»  hile  men's  force,  now  that  it  had  received  a 
>  rong  reinforcement,  that  they  gave  up  all 
rresenl  intention  of  molesting  il,  and  went  olT  in 
in  opposite  direction  in  search  of  game,  horses, 
'r  booty,  wherp  these  might  be  acquired  with 
■  ss  risk  and  danger. 

Reginald  and  Ethelston  went  together  on  the 
fine  of  march;  and  although  the  spirits  of  the 
Ibrmer  were  damped  by  the  recent  and  melan- 
choly fate  of  l.ie  Crow  youth,  in  whom  he  had 
felt  much  interest,  the  buoyant  hilarity  of  his 
disposition  did  not  long  resist  his  friend's  endeav- 
ours to  banish  that  subject  from  his  thoughts, 
and  to  turn  the  conversation  to  topics  more  im- 
mediately connected  with  the  object  of  their 
present  expedition. 

Reginald  having  once  confided  to  Ethelston 
his  'ove  for  Prairie-bird,  found  a  pleasure  in  de- 
scribing to  him  her  beauty,  her  natural  grace, 
her  simplicity,  in  short,  alllhose  charms  and  at- 
liactions  which  had  carried  by  storm  the  fortress 
of  his  heart;  and  it  seemed  that  his  friend  was 
no  less  willing  to  listen  than  he  to  talk  upon  the 
subject;  repeating  question  after  question,  re- 
f,'arding  her  with  an  unwearied  intensity  of  curi- 
osity that  excited  at  length  the  surprise  of  Regi- 
nald himself. 

"Indeed,  Edward,"  he  «iid,  laughing,  "did  I 
not  know  that  you  are  devoced  to  a  certain  lady 
on  the  banks  of  the  Muskingum,  and  that  your 
attachments  are  reasonably  steady,  I  could  al- 
most believe  that  the  fidelity  and  eloquence  with 
which  I  have  described  Prairie-birrt  had  made 
vou  fall  in  love  with  her  yourself." 


"  Perhaps  you  are  clnimlng  more  merit  fur 
Tour  own  eloquence  than  is  due  to  it,"  saiil 
kihelsiun,  in  a  similar  tone:  "you  forget  thai 
before  1  joined  you,  Paul  Mutter  and  I  h:ul  trav- 
elled many  hundred  miles  together;  and  it  is  n 
topic  upon  which  he  speaks  hs  warmly  and  par- 
tially as  yourself" 

"Well  he  may!"  replied  Reginald  with  ener- 
gy, "  lor  she  owes  everything  to  his  atiiectionate 
care  and  instruction,  in  return  Ibr  which  she 
loves  and  venerates  him  us  if  he  were  her  fa- 
ther." 

In  such  conversation  did  the  friends  while  away 
many  weary  hours  on  the  march;  and  at  the 
midday  halt,  and  evening  camp,  they  were  join- 
ed by  the  worthy  Missionary,  who,  justly  proud 
of  his  pupil,  and  knowing  tliat  he  was  address- 
ing those  who  would  not  soon  be  weary  of  hear- 
ing her  praises,  told  them  many  anecdotes  of  her 
early  youth,  with  an  earnestness  and  feeling 
which  often  caused  Reginald  to  avert  his  face, 
and  Ethelston  to  shade  his  brow  thoughtfully 
with  his  hand. 
.Noc  was  tlie  march  unenlivened  by  scenes  of 
a  merrier  kind,  for  Pierre,  Baptisic,  and  Mon- 
sieur Perrot  kept  up  a  constant  round  of  fun  and 
raillery  around  tlieir  camp-kettle ;  the  latter  con- 
tinuing to  act  as  chief  cook  lor  all  the  white  men 
and  half-bred  in  the  party,  and  leaving  the  Dela- 
wares  to  dress  their  food  after  their  own  fancy. 
Provisions  were  abundant  in  the  camp,  and  Per- 
rot contrived  by  his  ingenuity  to  give  a  variety 
both  in  appearance  and  flavour  to  supplies,  which, 
in  truth  "consisted  of  little  more  than  parched 
maize,  biscuit,  cofiee,  and  bison  meat.  He 
talked  incessantly,  and  his  lively  sallies  not  only 
amused  his  two  companions,  but  often  drew  a 
smile  from  Reginald,  in  spite  of  tlie  anxiety  oc- 
casioned by  the  object  of  the  expedition. 

"Master  Baptiste,"  said  the  valet  cook,  (as 
nearly  as  his  language  may  be  rendered  into 
English,)  "methinks  those  great  hands  of  yours 
are  better  skilled  in  chopping  Sioux  skulls,  or 
felling  bee-trees,  than  in  the  science  of  butchery: 
see,  here,  what  unchristian  lumps  of  meat  yoa 
have  brought  me  to  dress !" 

"Weie  it  not  for  these  great  hands,  as  yoa 
call  them,"  replied  the  sturdy  Guide,  "you.  Mas- 
ter Perrot,  with  those  fine-skinned  fingers,  would 
often  ere  this  have  seen  little  of  cither  deer  or 
bison-meat  for  your  supper!" 

"  As  for  that,  I  deny  not  that  you  are  tolerably 
successful  in  hunting,  and  your  load  of  venison 
is  sometimes  brought  decently  home;  but  in  the 
cutting  up  of  a  bison,  your  education  has  been 
much  neglected." 

"It  may  be  so,  Monsieur  Perrot,"  answered 
Baptiste ;  "  I  do  not  pretend  to  much  skill  in  the 
matter,  and  yet  methinks  I  should  understand  as 
much  of  it  as  one  who  had  never  seen  a  bison  a 
month  since;  and  who  could  not  now  dress  a 
cow's  udder  half  so  well  as  an  Osage  squaw." 
Pierre  laughed  outright  at  his  comrade's  de- 
preciation of  Perrot's  culinary  skill,  and  the  lat- 
ter, whose  temper  was  not  a  whit  ruffled  by  this 
disparagement  of  his  talents,  inquired  with  the 
utmost  gravity, 

"  Pray,  Baptiste,  instruct  me  in  this  matter,  for 
I  doubt  not,  although  you  have  so  grievously 
mutilated  the  ox,  that  your  method  of  dressing 
the  cow's  udder  must  be  worth  learning." 

"  Nay,"  replied  Baptiste,  "  I  will  show  you 
that  when  we  come  among  cows  and  squaws; 
meanwhile,  I  recommend  you  to  make  yourself 
a  spare  peruke,  as  we  may  soon  be  running  foul 


i  •! 


(l 


198 


THE    PRAIRIE   BIRD. 


of  those  Osnges,  or  some  other  roving  Indianii, 
who  limy  chonce  to  cany  ulF  ibqt  iiiuveable 
dcalp  on  the  top  of  your  licad." 

Tnin  nlliision  to  I'errot'.s  tlii-nster  nnd  narrow 
escape  nmong  the  Sioux,  lurneii  the  laugh  ngainst 
him,  but  he  (juickly  chccl<ed  its  current  by  pla- 
cing before  hiii  companions  iiomc  butl'alo  »leaks, 
and  cnkcs  of  maizo  flour,  which  practically 
contradicted  ail  that  they  had  been  saving  in 
disparagement  of  the  good-humoured  French- 
man's cookery. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  second  day's  march, 
one  of  tlie  Delawares,  who  hud  been  sent  for- 
ward  to  reconnoitre,  galloped  to  the  rear  and  re- 
ported that  he  had  seen  one  or  two  men  at  a  great 
distance  ahead,  nearly  in  the  line  of  the  trail 
which  they  were  now  following,  Reginald  im- 
mediately sprung  upon  Nekimi,  who  was  walk- 
ing like  a  pet  dog  at  his  side ;  and,  accompanied 
by  Ethelston,  rode  forward  to  examine  the  stran- 
gers with  his  telescope.  The  undulations  of  the 
intervening  ground  hid  them  for  a  coll^iderable 
time  from  his  view,  and  when  they  reappeared 
they  were  near  enough  to  be  clearly  distinguish- 
ed through  his  glass. 

"  War-Eagle,"  he  exclaimed,  "  heaven  be 
praised  !  it  is  my  brave  Indian  brother  returning 
with  young  Wingenund.  Edward,  I  will  now 
present  to  you  the  noblest  creature  that  ever  yet 
I  encountered  in  human  shape.  My  feelings 
v.'ould  prompt  me  to  rush  forward  and  embrace 
liira;  but  we  must  conform  ourselves  to  Indian 
usage  here,  or  we  shall  lose  the  good  opinion  of 
our  Delaware  friends." 

Reginald  had  confided  to  his  friend  all  that 
had  passed  between  himselfand  War-Eagle,  not 
even  omittii^  his  unfortunate  and  long-cherished 
passion  for  Prairie-bird,  so  that  Ethelston  await- 
ed his  approach  with  no  ordinary  interest. 

As  the  Delaware  chieAain  advanced  with 
erect  front,  his  expanded  chest  thrown  slightly 
forwa  J,  and  the  nn^  symmetry  of  his  <brm  de- 
veloped in  every  movement  as  he  stepped  lightly 

ver  the  prairie,  Ethelston  felt  that  he  had  never 
s<:en,  either  in  nature  or  in  the  works  of  art,  a 
filer  specimen  of  manhood;  and  when  he  wit- 
n<i!>.-ed  the  grave  simplicity  whirn  mingled  with 
his  cordial  greeting  of  Reginald  Brandon,  he 
could  not  deny  that  features,  form,  and  bearing 
stamped  the  Delaware 'chieflain  at  once  as  one 
of  the  lords  of  the  creation.  Neither  did  the 
gentle  gracefulness  of  the  slighter  figure  b, 
whom  he  was  accompanied  escape  Ethelston's 
notice,  and  he  felt  no  Rifficulty  in  recognising  in 
the  interesting  features  of  the  youth,  that  Win- 

fenund  of  whose  high  and  amiable  qualities  he 
ad  heard  so  much  from  Reginald. 
"  These  are,  indeed,"  said  Ethelston  to  him- 
self, "  worthy  descendants  of  the  Lenapd  princes, 
•whose  sway  in  bygone  days  extended  over  many 
hundred  leagues  of  fertile  territory,  from  the 
Ohio  to  the  Atlantic  coast:  whose  broad  lands 
are  now  tilled  by  the  Saxon  plough,  on  the  site 
of  whose  ancient  villsj  'if  now  stand  the  churches 
and  the  populous  streets,  of  Baltimore,  and  the 
city  of  brotherly  love.  With  the  loss  of  their 
dominion,  mos:  of  these  once-powerful  tribes 
have  lost  the  highest  and  best  characteristics  of 
their  race;  subdued  by  the  rifle,  corrupted  by  the 
silver,  degraded  by  the  ardent  spirits  of  the  white 
man,  they  present  but  too  often  a  spectacle  in 
which  it  is  difficult  to  recognise  any  traces  of 
the  attributes  with  which  the  narratives  of  our 
early  travellers  and  missionaries  invest  them. 
But  these  are  indeed,  features  which  a  Titian 


would  not  have  scorned  to  delineate:  these  are 
forms  which  ihe  pencil  of  Michael  Angelo  and 
the  chisel  of  Praxiteles  would  have  rejoiced  to 
immorlaliaie." 

While  these  thoughts  were  rapidly  passing 
through  the  mind  of  Ethelston,  the  greeting  Ix- 
iween  Reginald  and  War-Eagle  was  exchanged ; 
and  the  former  had  given  to  his  Indian  brother 
a  hasty  sketch  of  the  events  which  had  occurred 
in  his  absence,  and  of  those  which  had  led  to  the 
reinforcement  brought  by  Ethelston.  A  gleam 
of  joy  shot  athwart  ihf  features  of  the  Delaware, 
as  he  learned  the  vengeance  which  his  warriors 
had  lultcn  of  their  enemies:  and  his  quick  eye 
glanced  with  gratified  pride  over  the  scalps 
which  they  displayed,  and  the  magnificent  bear- 
claw  collar  dependant  from  Alto's  neck.  The 
LenapA  braves  saw  too  that  the  tomahawk  of 
their  leader  had  not  slept  in  its  belt  on  his  soli- 
tary war-path,  for  the  scalps  of  the  two  unfortu- 
nate Osages  whom  he  had  slain  hung  <  lose  to 
its  handle;  and  though  there  was  no  shout  of 
triumph,  an  audible  murmur  of  satisfaction  ran 
through  the  whole  band. 

When  Reginald  presented  Ethelston  to  War- 
Eagle  as  his  earliest  and  most  faithful  friend 
from  childhood,  the  chief,  taking  him  by  the 
hand,  said,  "  The  friend  of  Netis  is  the  friend  of 
War-Eagle,— their  hearts  are  ono;  he  is  veiy 
welcome."  Reginald  then  presented  Winge- 
nund to  his  friend,  as  the  gallant  youth  who  had 
saved  his  life  on  the  banks  of  the  Muskingum. 

"I  feel  as  if  I  had  long  known  him,"  said 
Ethelston,  shaking  his  hand  cordially;  "I  have 
come  lately  from  Mooshanne,  where  his  name 
is  not  forgotten." 

"  Is  the  Lily  of  Mooshanne  well  T'  inqnired 
the  youth,  fixing  his  dark  and  earnest  eyes  full 
upon  the  countenance  of  the  person  w)iom  he 
was  addressing.  Ethelston  had  been  prepared 
by  his  friend's  description  of  Wingenund  for  a 
demeanour  and  character  highly  interesting,  but 
there  was  a  melody,  a  pathos,  a  slight  tremour 
in  the  tone  in  which  he  spoke  those  few  words, 
there  was  also  in  his  countenance  a  touching 
expression  of  melancholy  that  thrilled  to  the 
heart  of  Ethelston.  How  quick  is  the  jealous 
eye  of  love  I  Ethelston  knew  that  Wingenund 
had  passed  only  one  day  in  the  society  of  Lucy, 
yet  he  saw  in  an  instant  the  deep  impression 
which  that  day  had  left  on  the  young  Indian's 
mind. 

"  The  Lily  of  Mooshanne  is  well,"  he  replied. 
"If  she  had  Known  that  I  should  visit  her  broth- 
er, and  his  Lenap6  friends,  she  would  have  bid 
me  speak  many  kind  words  to  them  from  her." 

Wingenund  passed  on,  and  War-Eagle  related 
to  the  two  friends  the  leading  circumstances  of 
his  own  expedition,  omitting  all  mention  of  the 
fatigue,  the  hunger  the  sleepless  nights  that  he 
had  undergone,  before  he  discovered  and  reach- 
ed the  Osage  camp. 

As  he  described  the  scene  of  Wingenund  be- 
ing tied  to  the  post,  with  Ihe  dried  faggots  at  his 
feet,  and  the  appearance  of  Prairie-bird  when 
Mah^ga  called  upon  her  to  pronounce  her  own 
or  her  brother's  fate,  both  of  his  auditors  held 
their  breath  with  anxious  suspense,  which  gave 
place  to  astonishment,  as  he  proceeded  to  relate 
with  undisguised  awe,  the  mystery  of  the  solar 
eclipse,  which  led  to  the  liberation  of  Winge- 
nund. 

When  he  had  concluded  his  narrative,  Regi- 
nald was  speechless,  and  Ethelston  catching  the 
Delaware's  arm,  inquired  in  a  low  whisper, 


THE  PRAIRIK-BIRD. 


199 


_.tr :  ihrxe  are 
el  Angelo  and 
ve  rejoiced  to 

plilly  passing 
c  ^reeling  l)e. 
iNt'xclifliiKetl; 
ndian  l)ruiher 
had  occurrt'd 
had  led  to  the 
30.  A  gleam 
he  Delaware, 

hi8  warrium 
his  quick  eye 
er  the  »cnlps 
(nificent  bear- 
s  neck.  The 
tomahawk  of 
It  on  his  soli' 
e  two  unrurtu- 
hung  <  lose  to 

no  shout  of 
tisfaction  ran 

(Iston  to  War- 
faithful  friend 
g  him  by  the 
is  the  friend  of 
10 ;  he  is  veiy 
ented  Winge- 
irouth  who  had 
Muslcineum. 
ivn  him,  said 
iaily;  "I  have 
here  his  name 

elir*  inquired 
rnest  eyes  full 
rson  whom  he 
been  prepared 
ingenund  for  a 
interesting,  but 
slight  tremour 
ose  few  words, 
ce  a  touching 
thrilled  to  the 
is  the  jealous 
lat  Wingenund 
ociety  of  Lucy, 
!ep  impression 
young  Indian's 

!ll,"  he  replied, 
visit  her  broih- 
ivould  have  bid 
em  from  her," 
r-Eagle  related 
cnmstances  of 
mention  of  the 
nights  that  he 
ired  and  reach- 

Vingenund  be- 
I  faggots  at  his 
irie-bird  when 
ounce  her  own 
auditors  liclJ 
se,  which  gave 
eeded  to  relate 
ry  of  the  solar 
ion  of  Winge- 

arrative,  Regi- 

in  catching  the 

low  whisper, 


,  or  will  he  dare  to  make 


'•  IT'S  the  OfgBitti, 
Prttir(«-bird  hWWmny  farce  " ' 

"  He  hfts  ri(il,"  replied  the  C'liii'f,  "the  words 
of  Olitipit.und  (he  black  sun,  maiUt  him  alraid." 
He  adilcd,  drawing  himsell  proudly  to  his  lull 
lieiglit,  "  Had  the  wolf  ihrenH'ncd  lo  inuoh  lur 
with  his  paw,  the  tomahawk  of  VVm  K  .i^;i 
would  have  pierced  his  lieuri,  or  thi-  i  'im  .n 
the  Lenap*  chief  and  his  brother  woulil  have 
been  picked  by  the  buzzards  of  the  mountains 
Ku  saying,  War-Cagle  joined  hl>  expectant 
warriors. 

In  the  mean  time  Mah<^ga  returned  lo  his 
camp,  in  a  vexed  and  gloomy  state  ol  niiiid;  as 
he  passed  the  tent  of  Frairie-bird  a  daiker  frown 
lowered  upon  his  brow,  and  having  enlend  his 
lodge,  he  seated  himself,  without  speakin^  to 
any  of  those  who  had  assembled  there,  iii  ex> 
peetalion  of  his  return. 

The  youn^st  of  the  Os^iges  present  having 
handed  him  a  lighted  pipe,  retired  to  a  corner 
of  the  lodge,  where  he  resumed  his  occupation 
of  sharpening  the  head  of  a  barbed  arrow, 
leaving  the  chiet  to  his  own  meditations.  These 
dwelt  mainly  upon  Prairie-bird,  and  were  of  a 
nature  so  mingled  and  vague,  as  to  cause  him 
the  greatest  perplexity;  the  ed'ect  of  her  beauty 
and  attractions  upon  his  passions  had  rather 
increased  than  diminished.  He  loved  her  us 
much  as  one  so  fierce  and  selAsh  could  love 
another;  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  he  felt  that  he 
ought  to  nate  her,  as  being  the  sister  of  War- 
Eagle,  and  the  betrothed  of  the  man  who  hai 
struck  and  disgraced  him;  with  these  contend- 
ing feelings,  there  was  blended  a  superstitious 
awe  of  her  communion  with  the  world  of  spirits, 
and  a  remote  hope  that  some  of  these  supernat- 
ural agencies  might  turn  her  heart  in  his  fa- 
vour, and  induce  her  not  only  to  become  his 
bride,  but  zealously  to  employ  all  her  mysteri- 
ous powers  in  the  furtherance  of  his  ambitious 
schemes. 

Such  was  the  train  of  thought  pursued  by  the 
Osage,  as  he  leaned  against  the  pile  of  furs  that 
.supported  his  back,  and  stretching  his  huge  limbs 
at  tneir  ease,  watched  the  eddyinj;  wreoths  of 
fragrant  smoke,  which,  getu  ;•  puffed  from  his 
mouth  and  noflril,  wound  their  slow  way  to  the 
fissures  in  the  lodge-roof  by  which  they  es- 
caped.* 

The  suggestion  of  Toweno  had  made  a  strong 
impression  upon  Mah^ga's  mind,  and  led  him  to 
expect  at  no  distant  period,  an  attack  on  the 
part  of  the  Delawares,  and,  as  he  was  uncertain 
of  the  force  which  his  enemy  might  bring  against 
him,  he  resolved  to  make  a  time!/  retreat  to 
some  spot,  where  a  pursuit,  if  attempted  by  the 
Delawares,  might  enable  him  to  take  theni  at  a 
disadvantage. 

Calling  to  him  an  Osage,  who  was  leaning 
against  one  of  the  outer  posts  that  supjwrted 
the  lodge,  he  desired  him  to  make,  with  a  com- 
rade, a  careful  search  of  the  neighbourhood, 
and  to  report  any  trail  or  suspicious  appearance 
that  they  might  find,  and  when  he  had  given 
these  orders  he  summoned  Toweno,  and  started 
with  him  towards  the  head  of  the  little  valley, 

♦  The  herbs  mingled  by  the  Inclians  with  n  smnll  propor- 
tion of  tobacco,  are  frequently  of  n  light  and  frngmnt  fla- 
vour i  sometimes,  too,  thoy  have  some  narcotic  properties.  In 
order  fully  to  enjoy  their  qualities  aAer  tho  ludiau  fashion, 
tlie  smoker  must  inhale  the  smoke  by  the  month  and  expel 
it  through  the  nostril,  in  which  operation  the  nerves  and 
small  vessels  of  the  latter  experience  a  pungent  sensation 
which  some  consider  highly  agreeable,  and  is  not  unlike 
that  which  ia  caused  by  s  pinch  of  mild,  or  perfumed  snuff. 


without  informing  him  of  the  objeet  whtch  h« 
had  in  view,  but  as  the  latter  *«»  the  only  jif^r- 
Kon  to  whcmi  the  chief  had  etutusiH  ih«  secret 
(if  <\\c  cache,  where  hi*  most  valuHble  upoils 
wiTi;  deposited,  and  as  they  were  now  inarcfi 
Ing  in  that  direction,  he  was  not  at  a  loss  to  di- 
vine Matirgn's  intentions  Alt«r  a  briei!  silence, 
llie  chief  said  lo  his  follower,  "Do  the  thoniphls 
1)1  'I'li^pno  walk  upon  the  same  path  witn  the 
lliouitfhis    )1  Muhrga  !' 

"'they  do"  hf  refilled. 

"Can  TowetHi  speak  iheml" 

"Maht^ga  intends  lo  leave  the  camp  before 
the  Lonap^-  come,  and  taking  some  goods  with 
him  as  presents  to  the  mountain  trit)es,  to  find  a 
safe  place  where  the  enemy  cannot  follow  him." 

"  Toweno  says  well," answered  the  thief,  with 
a  grim  smile,  "but  that  is  not  enough,  the  Le- 
napi'  must  be  made  a  fool,  he  must  be  put  upon 
a  wrong  trail." 

"That  is  good,  if  it  can  be  done,"  said  To- 
weno gravely,  "  but  it  is  not  easy  lo  put  sand  in 
the  eyes  of  War-Eagle." 

"Mah<^ga  will  put  sand  into  his  eyes,  and  a 
knife  into  his  heart  before  this  moon  becomes  a 
circle,"  replied  the  chief,  clutching  as  he  went 
the  haA  of  his  scalpknife,  and  unconsciously 
lengthening  his  stride  under  the  excitement  pro- 
duced by  the  thoughts  of  a  conflict  with  his 
hated  foe.  They  had  now  reached  the  "cflche," 
which  was  a  large  dry  hole  in  the  .^ide  of  a 
rocky  bank,  the  entrance  to  which  was  closed 
hy  a  stone,  and  admirably  concealed  by  a  dense 
thicket  of  brambles  and  wild  raspberry  bushes; 
having  rolled  away  the  stone,  Mah^^ga  with- 
drew from  the  cuche  a  plent'Cul  supply  of  heads, 
vermilion,  powder,  and  c\ol*^  of  various  colour, 
belhg  part  of  the  plunder  taken  from  the  camp 
of  the  unfortunate  Delawares,  and  wrapping  in 
two  blankets  as  much  as  he  and  his  companion 
could  carry,  they  replaced  the  stone,  carefully 
concealing  their  footprints  as  they  retreated,  by 
strewing  them  with  leaves  and  grass.  At  a 
spot  very  near  the  cflche  was  the  skeleton  of  a 
deer,  which  Mah<ga  had  killed  on  a  former  oc- 
casion, and  purposely  dragged  thither.  As  soon 
as  they  reacned  this  point,  they  took  no  further 
precaution  to  conceal  their  trail,  because  even 
if  it  were  found,  the  parly  discovering  it  would 
stop  under  the  impression  that  it  was  made  by 
the  hunters  who  had  l^ed  the  deer.  On  re- 
turning to  the  camp  they  met  the  two  Osages 
who  had  been  despatched  to  reconnoitre,  and 
who  reported  that  they  had  found  one  fresh 
Indian  trail  in  the  woods  opposite  the  little  val- 
ley, and  that  they  had  followed  it  as  far  as  the 
stream,  where,  from  its  direction  and  appear- 
ance, they  were  assured  it  was  the  trail  of  War- 
Eagle;  and  Mah^ga  now  first  learned  that  his 
daring  foe  had  been  within  eighty  yards  of  the 
spot  selected  for  the  torture  of  Wingenund.  His 
was  not  a  nature  to  give  way  to  idle  regrets; 
equally  a  stranger  to  fear  and  io  remorse,  the 
future  troubled  nim  but  little,  the  past  not  at  all, 
excepting  when  it  afforded  him  food  wherewith 
lo  cherish  his  revenge ;  so  the  information  now 
received  did  not  interrupt  him  in  carrying  into 
execution  his  plans  for  retreat.  Accordingly, 
he  desired  Toweno  to  summon  his  warriors  to 
a  council,  and  in  a  short  time  the  band,  now  re- 
duced to  eight  besides  himself,  assembled  in 
front  of  his  lodge.  Here  he  harangued  them 
with  his  usual  cunning  sagacity,  pointing  out 
to  them  the  risk  of  icmaining  in  their  present 
position,  and  setting  before  them  in  the  most 


:.'i     f 


130 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


favourable  light  the  pdvantages  which  might 
accrue  from  their  falling  in  with  some  of  the 
peaceable  tribes  among  the  mountains,  and 
carrying  back  from  them  to  the  banks  of  the 
Osage  and  Kansas  rivers  a  plentiful  cargo  of 
beaver  and  other  valuable  skms.  Having  con- 
cluded his  harangue,  he  opened  before  them  the 
largest  (although  the  least  precious)  of  the  bales 
brought  from  the  c&che,  which  he  divided  equally 
among  them,  so  that  each  warrior  knowing  what 
belonged  to  him,  might  use  it  as  he  thought  fit; 
the  remaining  bale  he  ordered  to  be  carefully  se- 
cured in  wrappers  of  hide,  and  to  be  reserved 
for  negotiations  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole 
band;  the  Osages  were  loud  in  their  approbation 
of  the  speech,  and  of  the  liberal  distribution  of 
presents  by  which  it  had  been  accompanied,  and 
Ihey  retired  from  his  lodge  to  make  immediate 
preparations  for  departure. 

While  these  were  rapidly  advancing,  Mahcga, 
who  had  made  himsell  thoroughly  familiar  with 
the  neighbouring  locality,  considered  and  ma- 
lured  his  plans  for  retreat,  the  chief  object  of 
which  was  to  mislead  theDelawaresin  the  event 
of  their  attempting  a  pursuit.  The  result  of  his 
meditations  he  confined  to  his  own  breast,  and 
his  followers  neither  wished  nor  cared  to  know 
it,  having  full  reliance  iipon  his  sagacity  and 
judgment.  Meanwhile  Prairie-bird  remained 
quietly  in  her  lent,  grateful  for  the  deliverance 
of  her  young  brothers,  and  indulging  in  a  thou- 
sand dreamy  visions  of  herown  escape,  contrived 
and  eflectediby  Reginald  and  War-Eagle.  These 
were  suddenly  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Lita, 
who,  while  engaged  in  carrying  water'from  the 
brook,  had  gathered  from  one  of  the  Osages  some 
intelligence  of  what  was  going  forward.  If  the 
truth  must  be  told,  this  Indian,  separated  I'rom 
the  woman-kind  of  his  own  tribe,  had  begun  to 
look  on  the  expressive  gipsy  countenance  of  the 
Comanche  girl  with  an  eye  of  favour;  and  she 
not  being  slow  to  detect  the  influence  which  she 
had  acquired,  encouraged  him  ju.st  enough  to 
render  him  communicative,  and  willing  to  ofler 
her  such  attentions  as  were  admissible  in  their 
relative  situations.  Yet  in  her  heart  she  scorned 
him  as  a  "  dog  of  an  Osage,"  and  though  he 
knew  her  to  be  only  a  slave,  there  was  something 
in  her  manner  that  attracted  him  in  spite  of  him- 
self; it  was  not  diflicult  for  the  quick  girl  to 
gather  from  her  admii^  the  news  of  Winge- 
nund's  escape,  and  the  "ath  of  the  two  Osages 
sent  to  guard  him,  but  when  she  heard  the  latter 
attributed  with  an  execration  to  the  hand  of  War- 
Eagle,  she  was  obliged  to  avert  her  face,  that 
her  informant  might  not  observe  th«  look  of  tri- 
umph that  gleamed  in  her  dark  eyes. 

Having  ascertained  at  the  same  time,  that 
Mahega  was  about  to  strike  his  camp  and  re- 
sume his  march,  she  rewarded  the  Osage  by  an 
arch  smile,  that  sent  him  away  contented,  while 
she,  taking  up  her  water  vessel,  pursued  her  way 
to  her  mistress's  tent. 

To  the  latter,  Lita  lost  no  time  in  communi- 
cating what  she  had  learned,  and  was  disappoint- 
ed to  observe  that  Prairle-bird  seemed  rather 
vexed  than  gratified  by  the  intelligence. 

"  Does  Olitipa  not  rejoice  1"  inquired  she  ea- 
gerly, "  that  the  scalps  of  the  Washashe  dogs 
who  kept  Wingenund  pr'^oner  are  hanging  at 
tie  belt  of  the  Lenr.p6  chief  1" 

"  Olitipa  is  tired  of  blood,"  answered  the  maid- 
en, mournfully,  "and  the  loss  of  his  warriors  will 
make  Mahega  more  fierce  and  cruel  to  us.  See, 
already  he  prepares  to  go  on  a  distant  path,  where 


the  eyes  of  War-Eagle  and  Netis  may  not  find, 
us ;"  and  the  poor  girl  shuddered  at  the  prospect 
of  a  journey  to  regions  yet  more  wild  and  remote 
and  a  captivity  yrt  more  hopeless  of  deliverance! 

"  Let  him  go  where  never  Washashe  loot  step- 
ped before,"  replied  Lita,  "  where  no  trail  is  seen 
hut  thatof  the  bighorn, and  the  black-tailed  deer; 
AVar-Eagle  will  follow  and  will  find  him." 

Prairie-bird  smiled  sadly  at  the  eagerness  of 
her  companion,  and  then  desired  her  aid  in  get- 
ting their  wardrobe  and  few  moveables  ready  tor 
the  expected  journey.  While  they  were  thus 
employed  Mahega  called  Prairie-biid  to  the  door 
of  ner  tent,  where  she  found  the  chief,  with  his 
arm  wrapped  round  with  a  cloth ;  and  believing 
him  to  be  wounded,  she  acceded  at  once  to  his 
request  that  she  would  give  him  one  of  her  ker- 
chiefs for  a  bandage.  During  the  remainder  ot 
the  evening  she  saw  nothing  more  of  him  or  ot 
his  people,  and  she  slept  undisturbed  until  art 
hour  belbre  dawn,  when  she  was  awakened  by 
the  bustle  of  preparation  for  departure. 

As  soon  as  her  light  tent  was  struck  and  fHst- 
ened  to  the  poles  which  supported  it,  she  observed 
that  a  kind  of  cradle  had  been  constiucted  by  the 
Osages,  which  was  covered  with  skins,  and  was 
adapted  to  the  purpose  of  carrying  herself  or  her 
moveables,  when  slung  to  the  tent  poles,  as  well 
as  to  convey  its  contents  dry  over  any  river  that 
might  obstruct  their  passage. 

The  Osage  party  was  now  divided  into  two,  of 
which  one  was  reserved  by  Mahega  for  his  own 
guidance,  the  other  being  entrusted  to  that  of 
Toweno;  all  the  horses  were  placed  under  the 
charge  of  the  latter,  including  those  carrying  the 
packages,  and  the  palfrey  usually  ridden  by 
Prairie-bird;  this  party  bent  their  course  to  the 
northward,  and  Mahega  accompanied  them  a 
few  hundred  yards,  repeating  many  instructions 
to  Toweno,  which  seemed  from  his  earnest  ges- 
ticulation to  be  both  minute  and  important. 

The  heart  of  Prairie-bird  sank  within  her, 
when  she  saw  her  favourite  horse  led  away,  and 
herself  left  with  Lita  on  foot,  attended  by  Ma- 
hega and  four  of  his  men ;  knowing,  however, 
the  inutility  of  any  present  attempt  either  at  re- 
sistance or  fhght,  she  awaited  in  uncomplaining 
silence  the  further  commands  of  her  captor,  al- 
though she  easily  saw  through  the  mocking  veil 
of  courtesy  with  which  he  disguised  his  antici- 
pated triumph  over  her  baflled  friends.  To  his 
inquiry  whether  she  preferred  travelling  on  foot 
to  being  carried  in  the  wicker-frame  by  two  of 
his  men,  she  replied  without  hesitation,  in  th« 
afHrmative;  upon  which  he  presented  her  with 
a  pair  of  moccasins,  to  be  worn  over  her  own,  so 
ingeniously  contrived  that  although  they  did  nrJ 
encumber  her  movements  by  their  weight,  they 
yet  rendered  it  impossible  that  her  foot-prints 
should  be  recognised,  even  by  the  practised  eye 
of  War-Eagle.  A  similar  pair  was  also  placed 
on  the  feet  of  Lita. 

It  may  easily  be  imagined,  that  the  Osages, 
during  their  residence  at  this  encampment,  made 
various  excursions  for  hunting  and  other  pur- 
p  ->scR ;  they  had  used  on  these  occasions  old  trails 
made  by  native  tribes  or  by  the  bison ;  one  of 
these  ran  in  a  north-ea.<it  direction,  skirting  the 
base  of  the  high  western  hills,  and  offering  the 
prospect  of  easy  travelling,  through  an  undula- 
ting and  partially  wooded  country.  Into  this 
path  Mahega  struck  at  once,  leading  the  way 
nimself,  followed  by  Prairie-bird  and  Lita,  the 
four  Osages  bringing  up  the  rear.  This  line  ol 
march  being  adopted  by  the  cunning  chief,  first, 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


in 


that  he  might  have   frequent   opportunity  ofj 
watching  and  speaking  with  the  maiden,  and  i 
secondly,  that  his  men  might  b<;  the  better  ena- 
bled tu  lulfil  his  strict  injunction,  that  they  should 
carefully  remove  any  trace  which  she  might  j 
purposely,  or  accidentally,  leave  on  the  trail. 

Such  an  idea  did  not,  however,  appear  to  have 
entered  the  thoughts  of  Prairie-bird,  for  she  fol- 
lowed the  Osage  chief  with  a  blithe  and  cheerful 
air,  replying  good-humouredly  to  the  observa- 
tions, which  he  from  lime  to  time  addressed  to 
her,  and  pointing  out  to  Lita  the  beauties  of  the 
scenery  through  which  they  were  passing. 

It  was  indeed'  a  lovely  region,  abounding  in 
rock,  herbage,  and  magnificent  limberj  the  latter 
affording  an  agreeable  shelter  from  the  rays  of 
the  sun,  while  the  fresh  breeze,  blowing  from 
the  snow-capped  mountains,  which  bounded  the 
western  prospect,  rendered  the  exercise  of  walk- 
ing pleasant  in  the  highest  degree. 

They  had  followed  the  trail  for  some  time 
without  meeting  with  any  game,  when  the  quick 
eye  of  Mahega  delected  a  mountain-deer,  brows- 
ing at  no  great  distance,  and  in  a  moment  an 
arrow  from  his  bow  pierced  its  flank ;  the  wound- 
ed animal  bounded  onward  into  the  glade,  and 
the  chief  sprang  forward  in  pursuit.  The  Osa- 
ges  fixed  their  keen  and  eager  eyes  on  the  chase, 
muttering  half-aloud  expressions  of  impatient 
discontent  at  being  prevented  from  joining  it. 
Swift  as  had  been  the  arrow  of  Mahega,  it  was 
not  more  so  than  the  thought  and  hand  of  Prai- 
rie-bird, who  contrived,  while  her  guards  were 
gazing  intently  on  the  deer  and  its  pursuer,  to 
let  fall  unperceived  a  small  slip  of  paper  upon 
the  trail ;  so  completely  did  she  appear  absorbed 
in  watching  the  chase,  that  the  movement  was 
unnoticed  even  by  Lita,  and  the  party  continued 
their  way  a  few  hundred  steps,  when  a  signal 
from  Mahega,  now  out  of  sight,  soon  brought 
one  of  his  followers  to  assist  him  in  cutting  up 
the  quarry. 

Before  leaving  her  lent.  Prairie-bird  had  pre- 
pared and  secreted  about  her  person  several 
small  slips  of  paper,  on  each  of  which  she  had 
written  the  word  "Follow,"  trusting  to  her  own 
ingenuity  to  find  an  opportunity  of  dropping 
one  now  and  then  unobserved  by  the  Osages. 

Such  an  opportunity  having  now  occurred,  it 
had  been  successfully  emplo)'ed,  and  the  maiden 
went  forward  with  a  lighter  heart,  in  the  confi- 
dent hope  that  Providence  would  cause  some 
friendly  eye  to  rest  upon  the  slight,  yet  guiding 
token  left  upon  her  path. 

For  two  days  Mahega  pursued  his  march 
leisurely,  as  if  fearless  of  pursuit,  halting  fre- 
quently to  afford  rest  and  refreshment  to  Prairie- 
bird,  and  camping  at  night,  on  some  sheltered 
spot,  where  his  men  constructed  for  her  protec- 
tion a  hut,  or  bower  of  branches,  over  which 
was  thrown  a  covering  of  skins ;  before  setting 
out  in  the  morning  this  bower  was  destroyed, 
and  the  branches  dragged  to  some  distance  in 
several  directions,  and  Mahega,  having  careful- 
ly examined  the  spot,  was  the  last  to  leave  it, 
in  order  to  ensure  that  no  indication  or  trace  of 
his  fair  prisoner  might  remain. 

On  the  third  day  about  noon  they  reached  the 
banks  of  a  broad  stream,  which  two  of  the  Osa- 
ges crossed  immediately,  with  instructions  from 
their  chief  to  make  a  visible  trail  in  a  N.E. 
direction  for  some  distance,  when  they  were  to 
enter  the  river  again  at  another  pl.Tce,  and  to 
wade  or  swim  down  it  until  they  rejoined  him ; 
meatiwhile  Prairie-bird  and  Lita,  with  such  arti- 


cles as  they  wished  to  keep  dry,  were  placed  ia 
the  light  coriole  or  wicker-boat  covered  with 
skins,  and  Mahdga  guided  its  course  down  the 
stream,  followed  by  the  remainder  of  his  men; 
tliey  descended  the  bed  of  the  river  for  several 
miles  in  this  way,  and  although  more  than  one 
trail  appeared  on  the  banks  as  a  crossing  place 
for  Imlians  or  bison,  he  passed  them  all  unheed- 
ed, until  he  came  to  a  broad  track,  which  had 
very  lately  been  trodden  by  so  many  leet  that 
the  trail  of  his  own  party  could  not  be  distin- 
guished upon  it ;  here  he  halted  until  he  was  re- 
joined by  the  men  whom  he  had  left  behind, 
when  they  proceeded  forward  at  a  brisk  pace, 
towards  the  spot  which  he  had  appointed  as  the 
rendezvous  fur  his  party  in  charge  of  the  pack- 
ages and  the  horses. 

Mahega  was  now  in  high  spirits,  being  confi- 
dent that  the  precautions  which  he  had  taken 
would  throw  the  pursuers  off  the  scent,  and  en- 
able him  to  follow  out  his  plans,  which  were  to 
trade,  during  the  summer  with  the  Shosonies 
and  other  tribes  hovering  about  the  spurs  of  the 
mountains,  procuring  from  them  beaver  and 
other  valuable  furs  in  exchange  for  the  fine 
cloths  and  goods  which  he  had  brought  from  the 
Delaware  camp;  after  which  he  proposed  to  re- 
turn to  the  northern  portion  of  the  Osage  country, 
enriched  by  his  traffic,  and  glorying  in  the  pos- 
.session  of  his  mysterious  and  beautiful  bride. 

Such  were  the  projects  entertained  by  the 
Osage  chief,  and  he  brooded  over  them  so  ab- 
stactedly,  that  he  afforded  to  the  ever-watchful 
Prairie-bird  an  opportunity  of  dropping  another 
of  her  small  slips  of  paper  unperceived ;  she  did 
not  neglect  it,  although  almost  hopele.ss  of  her 
friends  ever  discovering  her  path  alter  the  many 
precautions  taken  by  Mahega,  and  the  long  dis- 
tance down  the  course  of  the  river  where  no 
trail  nor  trace  of  the  passage  of  his  party  could 
be  left. 

On  reaching  the  rendezvous  he  found  his  de- 
tachment with  the  horses  and  baggage  already- 
arrived  ;  they  had  come  by  a  circuitous  route, 
availing  themselves  of  several  Indian  trails  by 
the  way,  on  one  of  which  Toweno  had,  by  direc- 
tion of  his  chief,  scattered  some  shreds  of  the 
kerchief  that  he  obtained  from  Prairie-bird ; 
after  which  he  had  returned  upon  the  same 
trail,  and  diverged  into  a  transverse  one,  which 
had  enabled  him  to  reach  the  rendezvous  by  the 
time  appointed. 

Praine-bird  being  again  mounted  upon  her 
favourite  palfrey,  the  whole  party  set  forward 
with  increased  speed,  which  they  did  not  relax 
until  towards  evening,  when  they  saw  in  the 
distance  numerous  fires,  betokening  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  a  populous  Indian  village.  Mahe- 
ga then  ordered  a  halt,  and  having  sent  forwaiti 
Toweno  to  reconnoitre,  encamped  in  a  sheitewlf 
valley  for  the  night.  When  Prairie-bitafouT-^^ 
herself  once  more,  after  the  fatigues  of  ».ae  two 
preceding  days,  under  the  cover  of  her  own  lent, 
she  looked  round  its  small  circular  limits,  and 
felt  as  if  she  were  at  home !  casting  herself  upon 
her  couch  of  furs,  she  offered  up  her  grateful 
thanks  to  the  Almighty  Being  who  had  hitherto 
so  mercifully  protected  her,  and  soon  forgot  her 
cares  and  weariness  in  sound  and  refreshing 
slumbers. 


I-,'/ 


If 


189 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


War-Eaijle  and  his  Party  reach  the  deserted  Camp  of  the 
Osages.— The  Latter  full  in  with  a  strange  Band  of  In- 
dians, and  Mah<!ga  appears  in  the  Character  of  a  Diplo- 
matist. 

A  BRIGHT  sun  shone  upon  the  little  valley, 
which,  twenty-four  hours  before,  had  been  de- 
serted by  the  Osnges,  when  a  tall  form  glided 
cautiously  to  its  entrance,  half  concealed  by  the 
bushes  that  fringed  its  edge.  Glancing  hastily 
around,  War-Eagle,  for  he  it  was  who  was 
guiding  his  party  in  pursuit,  returned  to  an- 
nounce to  them  his  belief  that  the  enemy  had 
decamped ;  nevertheless,  the  usual  precautions 
were  adopted  against  a  surprise.  A  small  body 
of  Delawnres  were  thrown  forward  to  recon- 
noitre the  neighbouring  woods,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Atto,  while  the  chief,  accompanied  by 
Reginald,  Ethelston,  and  the  rest  of  the  party, 
entered  the  deserted  Osage  encampment ;  every 
nook  and  cranny  among  the  adjacent  woods 
and  rocks  were  diligently  explored,  and  not  till 
then  were  they  convinced  that  their  crafty  foe 
had  given  them  the  slip.  While  the  rest  of  the 
party  were  busied  in  tnis  search,  the  eye  of  Re- 
ginald Brandon  rested  in  absorbed  attention 
upon  the  spot  to  which  his  steps  had  been  first 
led,  as  if  by  the  power  of  instinct ;  it  was  a  small 
plot,  completely  sheltered  by  the  rock  which 
guarded  tne  front  of  the  recess;  a  few  holes 
made  in  the  turf  showed  where  pegs  had  been 
driven  in  to  secure  a  circular  tent.  "  Here," 
said  Reginald  to  Ethelston,  "here  is  the  spot 
trodden  by  her  dear  feet— here  have  her  weary 
limbs  reposed  during  the  long  watches  of  the 
night— here  have  her  prayers  been  offered  up  at 
noon  and  eve  for  thai  rescue  which  we  seem 
doomed,  alas !  never  to  accomplish  !" 

"  Say  not  a  word,  my  son,"  said  Paul  Miiller, 
laying  his  hand  kindly  on  the  excited  Reginald's 
shoulder;  "say  not  a  word,  my  son,  which 
would  seem  to  limit  the  power  or  the  mercy  of 
that  Being  to  whom  those  prayers  were  address- 
ed. Hope  is  the  privilege,  perseverance  the  duty 
of  man;  let  us  faithfully  use  these  bounties,  and 
leave  the  issue  to  His  all-wise  disposal." 

"  I  am  indeed  ashamed  of  my  nasty  expres- 
sion, worthy  Father,"  said  Reginald,  frankly; 
"  but  I  will  draw  e.icouragement  from  your  sug- 
gestion, and  banish  every  desponding  thought, 
while  there  remains  a  chance  of  success,  or  even 
a  glimmering  of  hope." 

Wingenurid,  who  had  appreached  unobserved 
to  the  side  of  his  friend,  whispered  to  him,  in  a 
low  voice,  "Netis  is  right:  here  it  was  thatOlit- 
ipa  sat  when  Wingenund  was  a  prisoner ;  she  is 
not  far,  the  Lenape  warriors  never  lose  a  trail." 

While  they  were  thus  conversing,  a  messen- 
ger from  War-Eagle  summoned  them  to  a  con- 
sultation on  the  plan  of  pursuit  which  should  be 
adopted. 

it  may  not  be  unnecessary  to  inform  those 
wko  have  never  been  upon  the  prairies  of  the 
Far- West,  that  a  trail  is  cisily  followed  when 
the  party  pursued  is  in  full  retreat,  because  any 
indication  of  footsteps  is  a  sure  guide  to  its 
course;  whereas,  in  a  camping-place,  where  a 
party  has  remained  for  a  considerable  time, 
numberless  paths  are  trodden  in  various  direc- 
tions during  its  stay,  some  for  hunting  excur- 
sions, some  for  bringing  wafer,  others  for  lending 
horses  to  and  from  their  pasturage,  so  that  the 
pursuer  is  at  a  loss  to  discover  by  which  of 
these  paths  those  of  whom  he  is  in  pursuit  have 
retreated. 


War-Eagle  being  well  aware  that  Mah6ga 
was  nut  less  skilled  than  himself  in  all  the  strat- 
agems and  devices  of  Indian  warfare,  ^et  about 
this  difficult  task  with  a  deliberation  that  did  not 
suit  the  eager  temper  of  Reginald  Brandon ; 
nevertheless,  he  had  so  much  confidence  in  the 
sagacity  of  his  Indian  brother,  that  he  restrained 
all  expression  of  his  impatience,  and  agreed 
without  objection  to  the  method  proposed  by  him 
at  the  council.  Agreeably  to  this  plan,  Paul 
Miiller,  Perrot,  and  several  of  the  hunters  and 
Delawares,  remained  on  guard  at  the  camp, 
while  the  main  body,  divided  into  small  parties 
of  two  or  three  in  each,  were  to  explore  every 
trail  that  offered  a  probability  of  success,  and  to 
return  before  nightfall  to  report  the  result  of 
their  search.  War-Eagle  set  out,  accompanied 
by  Atto ;  Reginald  was  joined  by  Ethelston  and 
Baptiste ;  the  other  parties  took  the  respective 
quarters  assigned  to  them,  and  Wingenund,  who 
remained  some  time  afler  they  had  started,  left 
the  camp  alone. 

The  trail  followed  by  ReginaM  and  his  friends 
led  towards  the  upper  part  of  the  valley,  over 
broken  and  bushy  ground,  intersected  here  and 
there  by  streamlets,  and  small  springs,  which  just 
afforded  water  enough  to  soflen  the  herbage,  in 
which  they  were  soon  lost.  Had  he  been  less 
absorbed  by  the  object  of  the  expedition,  Regi- 
nald  could  not  have  failed  to  admire  the  tran- 
quil beauty  of  this  sheltered  and  .secluded  spot; 
but  the  rich  foliage  of  the  forest  trees,  the  merry 
chirrup  of  the  birds,  the  fragrance  exhaled  by 
the  numberless  shrubs  and  flowers,  the  tempting 
clusters  of  wild  raspberries,  scattered  around 
their  path,  all  these  were  passed  unheeded  by 
men  whose  senses  and  faculties  were  centered 
only  on  the  trail.  With  equal  modesty  and  good 
sense,  Reginald  had  <  esired  Baptiste  to  take  the 
lead,  knowing  that  the  sturdy  forester's  expe- 
rience in  such  matters  was  far  greater  than  his 
own. 

After  they  had  marched  a  considerable  dis- 
tance in  silence,  Reginald  inquired  the  opinion 
of  his  guide, 

"  Why,  you  see,"  replied  the  latter,  "  the  Osa- 
ges  have  driven  their  horses  several  times  this 
way  to  feed,  and  their  marks  are  plain  enough ; 
but  if  a  man  may  judge  by  the  looks  of  the  coun- 
try forward,  this  is  not  likely  to  be  the  right 
trail.  It  seems  to  get  smaller  the  further  we  go; 
and  I'm  inclined  to  think  it's  only  been  a  hunt- 
ing path  into  the  woods." 

After  this  unsatisfactory  observation,  Baptiste 
again  went  forward,  until  he  stopped  at  the 
skeleton  of  a  deer;  the  same,  it  may  be  re- 
membered, as  was  mentioned  in  a  former  chap- 
ter. Here  all  traces  of  a  further  trail  ceased, 
and  the  disappointed  Reginald  exclaimed, 

"Baptiste,  your  suggestion  was  only  too  cor- 
rect; we  have  lost  oar  time;  let  us  return,  and 
search  in  some  mher  direction." 

"Not  so  fast.  Master  Reginald,"  replied  the 
cautions  Guide;  "there's  as  many  tricks  in  an 
Indian's  brain  as  therre  are  holes  in  a  honey- 
comb. The  animal  has  been  dead  some  time, 
and,  unless  this  grass  decieives  me,  it  has  been 
trodden  within  these  two  days.  Vovons  vlte;  as 
they  say  up  north.  Stand  quite  still;  and  yoo, 
too!|  Master  Ethelston,  keep  on  that  side  of"  the 
deer's  bones,  while  I  have  a  bit  of  a  hunt  after 
the  wood  fashion." 

So  saying,  the  Guide,  resting  "  The  Doctor" 
upon  the  skeleton,  and  throwing  himself  upon 
his  knees,  began  to  turn  over  the  leaves  and  to 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


hat  Mah6ga 
all  the  strat- 
•re,  let  about 
n  that  did  not 
Id  Brandon ; 
idence  in  the 
he  restrained 
and  agreed 
posed  by  him 
s  plan,  Paul 
hunters  and 
t  the  camp, 
small  parties 
xplore  every 
ccess,  and  to 
he  result  of 
iccompanied 
Ithelslon  and 
le  respective 
genund,  who 
1  started,  left 

id  his  friends 

valley,  over 

ted  here  and 

rs,  which  just 

e  herbage,  in 

he  been  less 

dition,  Regi- 

ire  the  tran- 

icludedspot; 

es,  the  merry 

!  exhaled  by 

the  tempting 

;ered  around 

unheeded  by 

ere  centered 

sty  and  good 

te  to  lake  the 

ester's  expe- 

ater  than  his 

iderable  dLs- 
l  the  opinion 

r,  "  the  Osa- 
al  times  this 
Bin  enough ; 
of  thecoun- 
be  the  right 
rther  we  go ; 
)een  a  hunt- 

jn,  Baptista 
ped  at  the 
nay  be  re- 
irmer  chap, 
•ail  ceased, 
med, 

ily  too  cor- 
reium,  and 

replied  the 
•icks  in  an 
I  a  Itoney- 
>ome  time, 
t  has  been 
)ns  vlte,  as 
;  and  you, 
iide  of  the 
hunt  after 

le  Doctor" 
iself  upon 
i^es  and  (o 


133 


examine  minutely  every  blade  of  grass  and  fallen 
twig,  muttering,  as  he  pursued  his  task,  "If 
War-Eagle,  or  one  of  his  double-sighted  Dela- 
wares  were  here,  he  would  pick  out  this  trail  in 
no  time.  My  eyes  are  not  so  good  as  they  were 
some  years  back;  but  they  will  serve  this  pur- 
pose, however  I  This  is  only  bungling  work, 
after  all :  one— two ;  yes,  I  think  there's  been 
two  of  them.  Capote!  they've  strewed  sticks 
and  leaves  over  the  back-trail  I"  And  the  rough 
woodsman,  as,  creeping  Ibrward  on  his  knees,  he 
discovered  each  succeeding  step  on  the  trail, 
hummed  snatches  of  an  old  Canadian  song,  the 
only  words  of  which  that  the  two  friends  could 
distinguish,  being  "  Vogue,  vogue,  la  bonne  pi- 
rogue I" 

"  Has  it  not  often  been  a  matter  of  surprise  to 
you,"  said  Ethelston  in  a  whisper  to  Reginald, 
"  that  the  language,  and  even  the  dialect,  of  the 
Guide  so  constantly  varies  1  Sometimes  he 
speaks  veVy  intelligible  English;  at  others,  his 
phrases  and  exclamations  are  mostly  French ; 
and,  on  other  occasions,  he  mingles  the  two  most 
strangely  together." 

"  I  confess,"  replied  Reginald,  "  the  same 
thought  has  often  occurred  to  me;  yet  it  is  not, 
perhaps,  so  strange  as  it  would  at  hrst  sight  ap- 
pear, when  we  remember  the  vicissitudes  of 
his  early  life,  the  number  oCyears  that  he  spent 
in  youth  among  the  French  boatmen  and  traders 
of  the  northern  lakes,  his  excursions  with  them 
into  the  country  of  the  Upper  Sioux  and  the 
Chippevvyan  nations;  while  for  the  last  fifteen 
years  he  has  been  much  employed  by  my  father, 
and,  from  his  honesty  and  trustworthy  qualities, 
has  been  thrown  a  great  deal  into  constant  in- 
tercourse with  persons  of  respectability  and  edu- 
cation." 

Meanwhile,  Baptiste  having  ascertained  the 
direction  of  the  trail,  cast  his  eyes  forward,  and, 
like  a  shrewd  reasoner,  jumped  to  his  conclu- 
sion, in  this  instance,  more  correctly  than  is 
usually  the  case  with  the  persons  to  whom  he 
has  been  likened.  Pushing  aside  the  bushes 
which  grew  at  the  base  of  a  rock,  he  soon  ob- 
served a  large  :i[)erture,  closed  by  a  stone  of 
corresponding  dimensions.  This  last  was,  with 
the  aid  of  Reginald,  soon  displaced,  and  the 
"  c4che"  of  the  Osages,  together  with  the  plun- 
dered treasure  it  contained,  was  exposed  to  view. 

"  So,  so !"  chuckled  the  Guide,  "  we  have 
found  the  thieving  fox's  hole ;  an  they  do  not 
cover  their  trail  somewhat  better  from  the  eyes 
of  War-Eagle,  we  shall  have  their  skins  before 
three  nights  are  over ;  why,  a  town  lawyer  could 
have  treed  this  coon  I" 

Reginald  and  Ethelston  could  not  forbear 
laughing  at  the  low  esiimation  in  which  the 
woodsman  held  the  ferreting  powers  of  a  town 
lawyer— an  estimation  so  contrary  to  that  enter- 
tained by  those  who  have  any  experience  in  the 
capacity  of  a  class  so  unjustly  depreciated. 
They  resolved  to  carry  with  them  to  the  camp 
the  whole  contents  of  the  cave,  with  a  view  to 
their  being  forthwith  appropriated  and  disposed 
of  by  War-Eagle,  now  the  chief  of  ihe  tribe. 

Three  large  blankets  were  easily  tied  into  the 
form  of  so  many  sacks,  of  which  each  threw  one 
over  his  shoulder,  and  they  returned  with  their 
recovered  spoil  to  the  encampment. 

Great  was  the  surprise  of  the  Delawares  when 
Jheysaw  the  three  white  men  coming  in,  hot  and 
weary  with  their  load;  greater  still,  when  the 
blankets  were  opened,  and  their  contents  laid 
out  upon  the  turf,  among  which  were  found 


lead,  powder,  cloth,  knives,  beads,  paints,  med- 
icine-bags, and  a  variety  of  small  articles,  plun- 
dered from  the  lod£[e  of  the  unfortunate  Tarae- 
nund,  and  tliuse  adjoining.  Among  these  were 
a  few  book:  and  instrumeuts  belonging  to  Prai- 
rie-bird and  Paul  Miiller,  all  of  which  were  im- 
mediately delivered  over  to  the  lOter. 

War-Eagle's  party  was  already  so  well  sup 
plied  with  necessaries  of  tJvery  kind,  that  only 
a  small  portion  of  the  goods  "was  required  for 
their  use;  and  the  chief,  after  permitting  every 
man  to  claim  anything  which  might  have  be- 
longed to  himself  or  his  relatives,  ordered  the 
remainder  to  be  packed  in  bales  of  a  convenient 
size,  so  that  they  might  be  either  carried  with 
them  or  concealed,  as  circumstances  might  reur 
der  advisable. 

The  council  was  opened  by  War-Eagle,  who 
desired  the  several  parties,  who  had  been  out  in 
difierent  directions,  to  state  the  result  of  the 
search.  This  was  done  with  the  brief  simplicity 
usually  observed  by  Indians  on  such  occasions. 
But  nothing  of  importance  was  elicited;  for  of 
the  trails  which  they  had  examined,  none  seemed 
to  be  that  pursued  by  the  Osages  in  their  retreat. 
During  the  speech  of  one  of  the  Delaware  war- 
riors, Wingenund,  who  had  not  before  made  his 
appearance,  noiselessly  entered  the  circle,  and, 
taking  his  place  by  the  side  of  Reginald,  leaned 
in  silence  upon  his  rifle. 

Baptiste,  whose  age  and  experience  entitled 
him  to  speak,  and  who  suspected  tha  the  chief 
had  not  been  altogether  unsuccessful  in  his 
search,  addressed  him  thus:  "Has  War-Eagle 
no  wonl  for  his  warriors  1  Grande-Hache  and 
Netis  have  found  the  stolen  goods :  has  the  path 
of  the  thief  been  dark  to  the  eyes  of  the  chief!" 

"  The  foot  of  War-Eagle  has  been  on  the 
Washashe  trail,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

A  murmur  of  satisfaction  ran  through  the  as- 
sembly, and  Reginald  could  scarcely  restrain  the 
open  expression  of  his  impatient  joy. 

"The  trail  is  fresh,"  continued  the  chief;  "not 
more  than  two  dews  have  fallen  on  the  prints  of 
foot  and  hoof" 

"  Did  my  brother  see  the  footmarks  of  Olitipa 
and  the  Comanche  girll"  inquired  Reginald, 
hsstily. 

"  He  did  not,  but  he  saw  the  trail  of  Olitipa's 
horse;  iron  is  on  two  of  its  feet."* 

During  this  conversation,  Wingenund  more 
than  once  looked  up  in  the  face  of  his  white 
brother,  then  cast  his  eyes  again  upon  the  ground 
without  speaking.  The  expression  of  the  youth's 
countenance  did  not  escape  the  observation  of 
War-Eagle,  who  thus  addressed  him :  "  Has  tha 
young  warrior  of  the  race  of  Tamenund  seen 
nothing  1  He  has  been  far  over  the  Prairie ;  his 
step  was  the  last  to  return  to  camp;  his  eyes  are 
not  shut;  there  are  words  in  his  breast;  why  are 
his  lips  silent  1" 

The  youth  modestly  replied  in  a  voice,  the 
singularly  musical  tone  of  which  charmed  and 
surprised  Ethelston,  who  had  seldom  heard  him 
speak  before, "  Wingenund  waited  until  war.iors 
who  have  seen  many  summers,  and  travelled  the 
warpath  often,  should  have  spoken.  Wingenund 
has  been  on  the  Washashe  trail." 

At  this  announcement  an  exclamation  of  sur- 
prise was  uttered  by  several  of  the  bystaniiers, 
fur  all  had  seen  that  the  direction  whence  the 
youth  had  returned  to  the  camp  was  quite  difler- 

*  It  miiy  well  be  supposed  tint  the  horses  used  by  tho 
Indians  on  tho  prairie  are  never  lihod.  The  pnlfrey  of  OI:t- 
ipa  had  probably  been  procured  from  some  Mexicou  iredtr. 


Ki 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


ent  from  ihnt  which  had  been  pursued  by  War- 
Ka^le,  and  yet  ihe  latter  had  allinned  that  he  had 
been  on  tlie  trail  of  the  enemy.  The  chiel  him- 
seir  was,  indeed,  surprised/  but  he  knew  the 
tiiltidence,  as  well  as  the  at.ute  sagacity  of  llie 
young  speaker;  and  although  conlident'that  he 
was  not  mistiOen  in  his  own  judgment,  he  was 
net  by  any  means  disposed  to  overrule,  without 
careful  inquiry,  that  of  his  brother.  The  con- 
versation between  them  was  thus  pursued: 

"  Were  there  horses  on  tlie  trail  found  by 
Wingenund '!" 

"  There  were  not." 

"  Were  the  men  many  in  number?" 

"  Wingenund  cannot  surely  say ;  the  trail  was 
«1d  and  beaten;  buflalo  had  passed  on  It;  of 
fresh  marks  he  coi'ild  not  see  many;  more  than 
four,  not  so  many  as  ten." 

"  Let  my  brother  poin^  with  his  finger  to  the 
line  of  the  trail." 

The  youth  slowly  turned,  cast  his  eye  upward 
at  the  sun,  thence  at  the  rocks  overhanging  the 
valley  to  the  northward,  and  then  pointed  stead- 
ily in  a  north-easterly  direction. 

War-Eagle,  well  assured  that  his  own  obser- 
vation had  been  correct,  and  that  he  had  followed 
a  trail  leading  towards  the  north-west,  thus  con- 
tinued :  "  There  are  many  nations  and  bands  of 
Indians  here;  a  false  light  may  have  shone  on 
the  path.  How  does  my  young  brother  know 
that  the  feet  of  the  Wash'ashe  had  trodden  it?" 

There  was  a  natural  dignity,  without  the 
slightest  touch  of  vanity,  in  the  manner  of  the 
youth,  as  he  replied,  "  The  Great  Spirit  has  giv- 
en eyes  to  Wingenund,  and  he  has  learned  from 
War-Eagle  to  know  the  mocassin  of  a  Washa- 
she  from  that  of  a  Dahcotah,  a  Pawnee,  a  Shaw- 
ano, or  a  Maha."    . 

After  musing  a  moment,  War-Eagle  continued 
"  Did  my  brother  find  the  foot  of  Olitipa  and  the 
Comanche  girl  on  the  path  1" 

"  He  could  not  find  the  mark  of  their  feet,  yet 
he  believes  they  are  on  the  path,"  was  the  un- 
hesitating reply. 

Reginald  and  Ethelston  looked  at  the  speaker 
-with  undisguised  astonishment;  and  War-Ea- 
gle, although  he  could  not  believe  but  what  the 
latter  was  mistaken,  continued  thus  to  question 
him :  "  My  brother's  speech  is  dark ;  if  he  could 
find  no  trail  of  the  women,  why  does  he  think 
that  they  are  on  the  path  "i  Have  the  Washa- 
she  carried  them?" 

"  Not  so,"  replied  Wingenund.  "  Twice  the 
trail  crossed  a  soil  bank  of  sand,  where  water 
luns  from  the  mountains  in  winter;  there  were 
the  marks  of  two  who  had  passed  lately,  their 
feet  large  as  those  of  the  warriors,  the  tread  light 
as  that  of  a  woman  or  a  young  boy." 

The  chief  was  very  reluctant  to  say  or  do 
aught  that  might  give  pain  to  his  young  brother, 
whose  future  success  as  war-leader  of  the  Lena- 
pe  had  ever  been  the  object  of  bis  fondest  hopes ; 
but  in  the  urgent  business  in  which  they  were 
now  engaged,  he  felt  that  all  other  considerations 
must  be  secondary  to  the  recovery  of  Olitipa  and 
revenge  on  Mahega  for  the  loss  and  disgrace  in- 
flicted on  the  Lenap6. 

"My  brother  has  eyes  as  sharp  and  feet  as 
light  as  a  panther,"  he  said,  in  a  kindly  tone ; 
"  but  a  trail  in  this  strange  country  may  deceive 
a  man  who  has  been  on  the  warpath  for  twenty 
summers.  The  trail  followed  by  War-Eagle 
goes  through  that  small  valley  betvveen  the  hills," 
pointing  to  the  nortli-wcst.  "  Atto  was  with  him ; 
they  knew  the  iron  hoof  of  Olitipa's  horse;  they  ' 


found  this  scrap,  torn  from  her  dress  by  a  bram- 
ble stretching  across  the  path.  Is  my  brother 
satisfied  1" 

As  the  chief  spoke,  he  held  up  before  the  coun- 
cil a  shred  of  a  silk  kerchief,  such  as  none,  cer- 
tainly, except  she  whom  they  sought  was  likely 
to  have  worn  in  that  region.  Again  a  murmur 
ol'  approbation  ran  through  the  assembly ;  and 
Reginald,  vexed  that  his  young  favourite  should 
have  been  subjected  to  such  a  disappointment, 
looked  towards  him,  in  order  to  see  whether  he 
bore  it  with  equanimity. 

The  countenance  of  Wingenund  underwent 
not  any  change,  save  that  a  quiet  smile  lurked 
in  the  corner  of  his  mouth,  as  he  replied,  "My 
brother  and  Atto  are  both  known  on  the  warpath ; 
th£ir  feet  are  swift,  and  no  lies  are  found  on  their 
lips ;  it  must  be  true  that  they  have  seen  the  hoof- 
print  of  Olitipa's  horse;  it  is  true  that  the  piece 
of  dress  torn  off  by  the  bramble  belonged  to  her. 
Very  cunning  are  the  Washashe  wolves;  they 
have  tried  to  blind  the  eyes  of  the  Lenape ;  they 
have  made  two  paths;  let  my  brother  follow  that 
which  he  has  fount",  and  Wingenund  the  other; 
perhaps  they  join  beyond  the  mountain." 

"There  is  sense  in  what  the  lad  proposes," 
said  Baptiste,  who  had  listened  attentively  hith- 
erto, without  speaking,  and  who  remembered  the 
acuteness  shown  by  Wingenund  near  the  banks 
of  the  Ohio.  "  If  he  is  sure  that  he  has  been  on 
the  Washashe  trail,  'tis  like  enough  they  have 
divided  to  throw  us  off  the  scent ;  they  will  come 
together  again  further  north." 

Again  War-Eagle  mused  in  silence  for  a  few 
minutes;  then  abruptly  turning  towards  Regi- 
nald, he  inqthred,  "  What  is  the  thought  of  Ne- 
tis?" 

"  I  think,"  replied  the  latter, "  that  Wingenund 
would  never  have  spoken  as  he  has  spoken  were 
it  not  that  he  felt  assured  of  all  that  he  said.  I 
would  venture  my  life,  and  what  is  now  far 
dearer  to  me  than  my  life,  on  the  truth  of  his 
words." 

The  youth  looked  gratefully  at  the  speaker, 
and  a  smile  of  gratified  pride  stole  over  his  elo- 
quent countenance. 

"  It  is  enough,"  said  War-Eagle  with  dignity ; 
"  let  Wingenund  go  upon  his  path ;  he  shall  not 
go  alone.  Which  path  does  ray  brother  Netis 
choose  1  he  has  heard  all  that  has  been  said  1" 

Reginald  was  sorely  puzzled:  on  one  side 
was  the  sagacious  experience  of  the  chief,  added 
to  the  strong  evidence  afforded  by  the  shred  of 
silk;  on  the  other,  the  confident  assurance  of  a 
youth,  of  whose  diffidence  and  acuteness  he  had 
seen  so  many  proofs*.  While  he  was  still  hesi- 
tating, he  saw  the  eyes  of  the  latter  fixed  upon 
him  with  an  earnest,  imploring  expression,  that 
decided  him  at  once. 

"  I  will  go  with  my  young  brother,"  he  said 
firmly ;  " Grande- Hftche,  Ethelston,  and  six  men 
shall  go  with  us ;  War-EagU^,  with  the  rest  of 
the  parly,  shall  go  on  the  large  Washashe  trail 
that  he  has  struck.  Let  the  chief  say  how  we 
shall  meet  beyond  the  mountain  if  either  of  the 
trails  prove  false." 

"  It  is  good,"  said  War-Eagle ;  "  Atto  shall 
lead  the  warriors  who  go  with  my  white  brother, 
aiid  before  the  third  sun  rises  we  will  come  to- 
gether again  and  talk  of  what  we  have  seen." 

Having  thus  spoken,  the  chief  waved  his  hand 
to  intimate  that  the  council  was  dissolved;  and 
calling  Wingenund  and  Alto  aside,  he  gave 
them  clear  and  rapid  instructions  as  to  the 
course  to  be  pursued  in  case  of  the  trails  diver- 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD 


135 


ss  ty  a  bram- 
s  my  brother 

fore  the  coun- 
as  none,  eer- 
rlit  was  likely 
tin  a  murmur 
ssembly;  and 
'ourite  should 
iappointment, 
;e  whether  he 

id  underwent 
smile  lurked 
replied,  "My 
the  warpath; 
bund  on  their 
seen  the  hoof-  ■ 
ihat  the  piece 
longed  to  her. 
wolves;  they 
.enane;  they 
ler  follow  that 
md  the  other: 
itain." 

id  proposes," 
eniively  hith- 
nembered  the 
ear  the  banks 
B  has  been  on 
gh  they  have 
ley  will  come 

nee  for  a  few 
3 wards  Regi- 
lought  of  JSe- 

tWingenund 
5  spoken  were 
It  he  said.  I 
It  is  now  far 
5  truth  of  his 

the  speaker, 
over  his  elo- 

with  dignity; 

he  shall  not 
)rother  Netis 
leen  said  1" 
on  one  side 
chief,  added 
the  shred  of 
urance  of  a 
mess  he  had 
IS  still  hesi- 

fixed  upon 
ression,  that 

sr,"  he  said 
ind  six  men 
the  rest  of 
ihashe  trail 
ay  how  we 
ither  of  the 

'Atto  shall 
ite  brother, 
11  come  to- 
re  seen." 
d  his  hand 
alved;  and 
',  he  gave 
•ns  to  the 
ails  diver- 


ging to  opposite  quarters,  and  he  established  at 
the  same  time  various  signals,  to  be  used  in 
«ase  of  necessity. 

Pierre  and  M.  Perrot  asked  and  obtained 
leave  to  join  Ri-ginald's  party ;  most  of  the  hor- 
ses and  all  the  spare  baggage  followed  that  of 
War-Eagle,  who  led  theiri  olf  through  the  defile 
in  the  mountains  before  alluded  to,  while  Win- 
genund  led  the  way  to  the  trail  which  he  had 
discovered,  with  the  light  springy  step  of  an  an- 
telope, and  an  expression  of  bright  confidence  on 
liis  countenanue,  which  communicated  a  similar 
feeling  to  those  who  might  otherwise  have  been 
disinclined  to  trust  themselves  to  the  guidance 
of  a  youth  on  his  first  war-path. 

While  these  things  were  passing  in  the  allied 
camp,  the  Osage  named  Toweno,  who  had,  it 
may  be  remembered,  been  sent  forward  by  Ma- 
h^ga  to  reconnoitre,  returned  on  the  following 
morning  to  his  chief,  bringing  him  intelligence 
that  the  fires  seen  at  a  distance  were  those  of  a 
numerous  band  of  Up.sarokas ;  he  had  crept  near 
enough  to  recognise  them  as  such  by  their  dress, 
the  trappings  of  their  horses,  and  other  indica- 
tions not  to  be  mistaken.  On  receiving  this  in- 
formation, Mahega  revolved  in  his  mind  various 
plans  for  gaining  the  good  will  of  his  dangerous 
neighbours,  and  of  securing  their  alliance  as  a 
protection  against  any  further  hostilities  that 
Hiight  yet  be  attempted  by  those  in  pursuit  of  his 
irail.  As  he  had  often  before  profited  by  the 
shrewd  advice  of  his  follower,  so  did  he  invite 
him  now  to  give  his  opinion  as  to  the  best  course 
to  be  adopted;  and  in  order  that  the  discussion 
might  not  be  overheard,  he  walked  slowly  with 
Toweno  down  a  glade  which  led  towards  the 
Crow  camp. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far,  when  they  saw  a 
fine  bison-cow  coming  directly  towards  them ; 
from  her  languid  and  crippled  movement,  it  was 
evident  that  she  was  wounded ;  while  from  her 
struggles  to  get  forward,  it  was  equally  clear 
that  she  was  pursued.  The  Osages  lost  not  a 
moment  in  crouching  below  the  cover  of  a  thick 
tush ;  and  scarcely  had  they  done  so  when  a 
mounted  Indian  appeared,  urging  his  tired  hrose 
up  the  glade  after  the  wounded  cow.  It  hap- 
pened that  she  fell,  unable  to  proceed  further, 
not  many  yards  from  the  spot  where  Mah6ga 
•was  concealed ;  and  her  pursuer  slackening  his 
pace,  approached  leisurely;  and  having  shot 
another  arrow  into  her  side,  dispatched  her  with 
the  long  knife  which  hung  at  his  side. 

He  was  a  tall,  fine-looking  man,  in  the  prime 
of  life,  with  remarkably  high  cheek  bonos,  an 
aquiline  nose,  and  a  mass  of  long  hair  gathered 
or  clubbed  at  the  back  of  his  head ;  his  hunting- 
shin  and  leggins  denoted  by  their  ornaments  a 
■warrior  of  rank  in  his  tribe,  and  his  whole  ap- 
pearance and  bearing  were  indicative  of  habitu- 
al authority.  , 

The  little  steed  which  had  borne  him,  and 
which  in  truth  would  have  been  termed  among 
■white  men  a  pony,  stood  panting  beside  its  mas- 
ter, whose  weight  seemed  entirely  dispropor- 
tioned  to  its  size  and  strength ;  and  the  Crow 
hunter  now  stooped  over  the  bison-cow,  examin- 
ing her  condition  and  her  fat  with  the  attention 
of  a  practised  Indian  gourmand. 

Meanwhile,  half  a  minute  sufficed  to  ''/lah(- 
ga  to  explain  his  intentions  in  a  whisper  to  his 
follower,  and  less  than  half  a  minute  sufficed  to 
carry  them  into  execution.  Rushing  together 
upon  the  Crow  while  he  was  stooping  with  his 
Dack  towards  them,  they  seized  and. pinioned 


him  before  he  had  time  to  catch  up  his  knife  or 
to  ofl'er  the  least  resistance.  Never  was  there 
an  attack  more  unexpected,  nor  a  victory  more 
easily  obtained;  and  the  discomlited  Crow  look- 
ed upon  his  two  captors  with  an  astonishment 
that  he  could  not  conceal.  Their  dress  and 
tribe  were  altogether  strange  to  liim ;  and  the 
scouts  around  the  camp  having  brought  in  no 
report  of  any  suspicious  appearance  or  trail 
having  been  discovered,  it  could  not  be  wondered 
at  if  he  imagined  that  they  must  have  pounced 
upon  him  from  the  clouds. 

As  soon  as  Maht-ga  had  assured  himself  that 
the  hands  of  the  prisoner  were  securely  tied,  he 
led  him  towards  a  spot  more  sheltered  from  ob- 
servation, Toweno  following  with  the  horse ; 
and  if  the  Crow  felt  at  first  any  uneasiness  re- 
.specting  their  intentions  towards  him,  it  must 
have  been  soon  dispelled,  as  the  Osage  chief  as- 
sured him,  in  the  language  of  signs,  that  no 
harm  was  intended  to  hira,  and  that  he  would 
soon  be  at  liberty. 

After  a  short  consultation  with  Toweno,  the 
chief  determined  to  conduct  the  prisoner  to  his 
camp,  on  reaching  which  his  arms  were  un- 
bound, and  he  was  courteously  invited  to  take  a 
seat  by  his  captors.  The  Crow  obeyed  without 
any  apparent  reluctance,  having  satisfied  hi.n- 
self  by  a  hasty  glance  around  that  he  was 
watched  by  several  well-armed  men,  and  that 
any  attempt  at  escape  or  resistance,  must  be  for 
thepresent  hopeless  of  success. 

The  pipe  of  peace  having  been  smoked  be- 
tween the  Osage  and  his  prisoner,  some  meat 
and  cakes  were  placed  before  the  latter,  of  which 
he  partook  without  hesitation ;  but  he  could  not 
resist  casting  sundry  curious  glances  at  the  white 
tent,  wondering  what  it  might  contain ;  he  observ- 
ed, also,  the  numerous  packs  and  bales  scattered 
around,  and  thought  within  himself  that,  what- 
ever might  be  his  own  fate,  many  of  these  would, 
ere  long,  fall  into  the  hands  of  his  tribe. 

As  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  meal,  Mah6ga, 
resuming  the  conversation  in  the  language  of 
signs,  explained  to  him  that  he  wished  to  be- 
come friends  with  the  Upsaroka;  that  he  had 
come  from  very  far  with  few  followers,  having 
fought  with  the  Pale-Faces ;  that  the  tent  was 
Great  Medicine,  and  contained  that  which 
brought  wealth  and  good  things  to  friends,  but 
terror  and  misfortunes  to  enemies. 

It  may  be  supposed  that  the  Upsaroka  did 
not,  in  his  present  circumstances,  regret  these 
peaceful  overtures ;  on  the  contrary,  he  bound 
himself  by  the  most  solemn  promises  to  do 
everything  in  his  power  towards  establishing 
friendship  between  their  respective  tribes,  and 
he  gave  Mah6ga  to  understand,  by  his  gestures, 
that  he  was  not  without  authority  among  the 
Crows.* 

*  Ainon?  snnio  of  the  iSorth  American  trilws  it  is  the  cui- 
tom  for  au  Indian  enterinff  into  a  solemn  obli^ration,  to 
plaro  his  hand  against  the  thigh  of  the  party  to  whom  he 
makes  tho  promise  ;  and  this  usage  has  in  several  instances 
Ijeen  triumplmntly  quoted  by  those  authors  who  have  la- 
iioured  to  prove  the  descent  of  the  Nortli  American  Indians 
from  tho  lost  tribes  of  Israel.  The  origin  and  meaning  of 
the  custom,  which  is  as  ancient  as  tho  time  of  Abraliam 
(Gen.,  xxiv.,  2),  are  both  involved  in  great  obscurity  ;  sun- 
dry explanations  have  been  attempted  by  learned  comment- 
ators of  diftcront  ages  and  nations  ;  tho  Jewish  writings  of 
tho  highest  authority,  such  as  the  Targuiu  of  Jerusalem, 
and  that  of  Jonallipu  lien  Uz/inl,  derive  it  from  tho  cove- 
nant of  Circumcision,  to  which  they  maintaia  its  symbolic 
analogy  by  arguments  tvhich  it  is  unnecessary  here  to  pro- 
duce. Ailam  Clarke,  in  his  Commentary,  leans  to  this 
view,  but  does  not  offer  any  conclusive  reasoning  in  support 
of  it.    Bishop  Patrick,  following  the  learned  Calmet,  da 


«!!■ 


•1 ' 


.  4 


136 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


I? 


Upon  receiving  this  assurance,  the  Osage 
chief  sufiered  his  prisoner  to  depart,  restoring  to 
him  his  horse,  and  presenting  him  with  several 
trinicets  in  token  of  friendship. 

The  first  use  which  the  latter  made  of  his  re- 
covered liberty,  was  to  invite  Mahega  to  return 
with  him  to  the  Upsaroka  village,  an  invitation 
which,  to  the  surprise  of  his  followers^  he  accept- 
ed without  hesitation. 

With  a  parting  caution  to  Toweno  to  keep 
his  men  watchful  and  ready  against  a  surprise, 
he  threw  a  battle-robe"  over  his  broad  shoulders, 
and,  armed  with  his  rifle,  tomahawk,  and  knife, 
accompanied  his  new  ally  towards  the  Crow  vil- 
lage. 

On  approaching  it  he  found  that  it  consisted 
of  more  than  a  hundred  lodges,  containing,  prob- 
ably, two  hundred  men,  besides  women  and 
children. 

Great  was  their  surprise  when  they  saw  the 
gigantic  stranger  advancing  with  his  conductor 
towards  the  lodge  of  the  principal  chief,  to  whom 
he  was  nearly  related. 

The  mien  and  bearing  of  the  Osage,  as  he  en- 
tered the  lodge,  were  alone  sufficient  to  secure 
for  him  a  courteous  invitation  to  sit  in  the  place 
of  honour,  while  the  Crow  who  had  been  his 
prisoner  briefly  narrated  to  the  head  chief  the 
circumstances  under  which  the  stranger  visited 
his  camp. 

The  pipe  of  friendship  having  been  smoked 
in  due  form,  the  Crow  chief  w-hispered  a  few 
words  in  the  ear  of  a  youth  beside  him,  who  dis- 
appeared inriniediately,  and  the  party  sat  in  si- 
lence until  he  returned,  accompanied  by  an  in- 
dividual whose  appearance  was  singular  in  the 
extreme;  his  head  was  of  an  enormous  size,  and 
covered  with  black  shaggy  hair;  his  features 
were  coarse  and  forbidding,  nor  was  their  ex- 
pression improved  by  a  patch  of  leather  plaster- 
ed over  the  cavity  which  had  once  been  occupi- 
ed by  his  left  eye;  his  shoulders  were  broad, and 
his  arms  of  unusual  length,  his  stature  was 
scarcely  five  feet,  and  his  legs  were  bandy,  with 
clumsy  knees  like  those  of  a  buffalo-bull ;  thi.« 
unsightly  ogre  rejoiced  in  the  name  of  Besha- 
ro-Jtata,  signifying  in  the  Crow  language,  "  the 
little  bison,"  but  he  was  commonly  called  "  Be- 
sha,"  or  the  "  Bison,"  the  diminutive  termina- 
tion being  omitted. 

His  origin  was  involved  in  a  mystery  that  nei- 
ther be  nor  any  one  else  could  satisfactorily  ex- 
plain, for  he  had  been  born  in  that  wild  region 
watered  by  the  Arkansas,  and  his  mother,  a 
Comanche  woman,  was  said  to  have  divided 
her  favours,  previous  to  the  birth  of  Besha,  be- 
tween a  halt-breed  trader  to  Santa  Fe,  and  a  run- 
away negro  from  one  of  the  southern  slave- 
states  ;  she  died  while  he  was  yet  an  infant,  and 
as  he  had  never  been  owned  or  claimed  by  either 
of  his  reputed  fathers,  it  was  a  miracle  that  he 
ever  lived  to  manhood. 

In  his  early  years,  he  hovered  about  the  hunt- 
ing parties  of  Osages,  Comanches,  Pani-picas, 
and  other  tribes,  who  frequented  the  region 
where  he  had  been  left  to  shifl  for  himself,  and 
at  other  seasons  none  knew  whether  he  lived 
upon  roots,  berries,  and  honey,  or  wandered  to 
tribes  yet  more  remote  from  his  birth-place. 

scribes  this  usage  as  an  ancient  sign  of  suhjection  and 
homage  prevalent  throughout  the  East ;  and  I.ocke  men- 
tions it  an  being  "  practised  by  some  Indiana  to  this  day." 

*  It  is  a  frequent  custom  among  the  Missouri  Indians  to 
sketch  upon  the  interior  of  a  bison-robe  the  various  battles 
ia  which  they  have  fought  and  conquered. 


He  was  never  known,  either  in  summer  or  win- 
ter, to  wear  any  other  dress  than  a  bison-skin 
with  the  hair  outwards,  in  the  centre  of  which 
he  cut  a  hole,  and  passing  his  head  through  the 
aperture,  wore  this  uncouth  skin  like  the  Poncha 
ol  the  Mexicans.  From  these  early  rambling 
habits,  he  had  picki  i  up  a  smattering  of  many 
Indian  dialects,  and  of  these  the  Osage  was  one 
with  which  he  was  the  -nost  familiar ;  he  enjoy- 
ed a  high  reputation  among  the  Crows,  not  only 
from  his  being  often  useful  as  an  interpreter,  but 
because  he  was,  without  exception,  the  most 
skilful  horse-stealer  in  the  whole  region  between 
the  Arkansas  and  the  mountains.  He  was  also 
deeply  versed  in  the  knowledge  of  all  the  prop- 
erties of  plants,  roots,  and  herbs,  so  much  so 
that,  unless  fame  wronged  him,  more  than  one 
of  his  enemies  had  died  by  the  agency  of  subtle 
poison.  Such  was  the  personage,  who  fixing 
his  single  cunning  eye  upon  Mah^ga,  inquired, 
on  the  part  of  the  Crows,  his  object  in  paying 
them  a  visit.  The  conversation,  rendered  in'.o 
English,  was  in  substance  as  fpUows : 

BcsAa.  "  Has  the  Washashe  come  to  hunt  and 
trap  among  the  Stony  Mountains  1" 

Mahe^a.  "He  has  not;  he  has  come  towards 
the  setting  sun  because  the  enemies  on  his  path 
were  too  many  for  hira — he  wished  for  peace." 

B.  "Has  the  Washashe  a  name  in  his 
tribe  1" 

M.  "He  has  a  name;  whe"  the  war-post  is 
struck,  Mahtga  is  not  silent, '  said  the  chief, 
haughtily. 

B.  "  Mahega !"  repeated  the  horse-stealer,  to 
whom  the  name  was  evidently  not  unknown. 
"Malifga,  the  Red-hand! — does  he  wander  so 
far  from  his  village  1" 

M.  "  He  wanders,  but  there  is  Grejit  Medi- 
cine in  his  lodge ;  blood  has  been  on  his  path, 
and  his  enemies  do  not  laugh." 

B.  "  Who  are  the  men  with  whom  Mahega 
has  dug  up  the  hatchet  V 

M.  "  Pale-faces,  and  cowardly  Red-skins, 
who  are  their  friends." 

When  this  reply  was  translated,  a  great  sen- 
sation was  visible  among  the  Crows,  several  of 
whom  whispered  together.  After  receiving  a 
few  instructions  from  the  Chief,  Besha  proceed- 
ed with  his  inquiry. 

"  Are  the  Pale-faces  on  the  trail  of  Mahega  1" 

M.  "  They  are." 

B.  "  How  many  1" 

M.  "  Mahega  does  not  know. 

B.  "  Is  there  a  pale-factd  warrior  with  them, 
young,  and  tall,  riding  a  dark  horse,  very  swifk 
and  strong  V 

M.  "  There  is,"  said  the  Osage,  astonished  in 
his  turn  at  hearing  Reginald  thus  accurately  de- 
scribed by  the  interpreter. 

Again  there  was  a  murmur  and  consultation 
among  the  Crows,  after  which  Besha  thus  pro- 
ceeded : 

"  What  is  the  wish  of  Mahega  ?  the  Upsaro- 
ka  ears  are  open." 

M.  "He  wishes  to  make  friends  with  them, 
to  join  his  strength  to  theirs,  to  drive  these  Pale- 
face thieves  out  of  the  Crow  country.  Mahcga's 
warriors  are  few,  but  they  are  not  squaws;  his 
hands  are  not  empty ;  he  has  presents  for  the 
chiefs,  and  he  will  not  forget  the  interpreter." 
He  added,  sinking  his  voice  almost  to  a  whis- 
per: "He  has  mp.ny  things,  enough  to  make 
the  tribe  rich,  hid  in  a  cave  far  to  the  south ;  if 
the  Crow  will  be  his  brother,  he  shall  find  that 
Mahega  has  an  open  hand." 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


137 


ummer  or  win- 
n  a  bison-skin 
enire  of  wiiidi 
ad  through  the 
life  ihe  Poncha 
'arly  rambling 
ering  of  many 
)sage  was  one 
«ar;  he  enjoy- 
rows,  not  only 
jnterpreter,  but 
ion,  tlie  most 
egion  between 
He  was  also 
all  the  prop. 
,  so  much  so 
nore  than  one 
ency  of  subtle 
e,  who  fixing 
^ga,  inquired, 
ject  in  paying 
rendered  in-.o 
ws; 
ne  to  hunt  and 

ome  towards 
es  on  his  path 
d  for  peace." 
name   in   his 

le  war-post  is 
lid  the  chief, 

rse-stealer,  to 
lot  unknown. 
»e  wander  so 

Grest  Medi- 
on  his  path, 

iom  Mah6ga 

y  Red-skins, 

a  great  sen-    . 
's,  several  of 

receiving  a 
isha  proceed- 

)fMah6gar' 


r  with  them, 
:•  very  swi<l 

stonished  ir 
curately  de- 

:onsultation 
a  thus  pro- 
he  Upsaro- 

with  them, 
these  Pale- 
Mah<;ga's 
luaws;  his 
nts  for  the 
iterpreter." 
to  a  whis- 
i  to  make 
!  south;  if 
1  Snd  that 


The  cunning  chief  was  aware  of  the  thieving 
propensities  of  the  Upsaroka,  and  he  purposely 
threw  out  this  last  hint  that  they  might  be  indu- 
ced to  spare  his  baggage,  in  the  hope  of  ulti- 
mately possessing  themselves  of  the  more  im- 
portant treasure  in  his  "  cftche."  Nor  was  his 
stratagem  without  effect,  for  the  discovery  and 
possession  of  the  contents  of  that  cftche  became 
forthwith  the  principal  object  of  the  Crowcluef; 
and  the  readiest  mode  of  attaining  it  was  to 
make  friends  with  the  party  who  could  alone 
guide  him  to  it. 

Fortune  had  in  this  instance  been  more  pro- 
pitious to  Mahega  than  he  deserved,  for,  as  the 
reader  has  probably  conjectured,  he  had  fallen 
in  with  that  very  Upsaroka  band,  a  detachment 
of  which  had  been  so  roughly  handled  a  few 
days  before  by  Reginald  Brandon  and  the  Del- 
awares  under  his  command. 

Tlie  high  contracting  parties  being  thus  united 
by  the  strong  ties  of  avarice,  and  revengo  against 
a  common  enemy,  an  offensive  and  defensive  al- 
liance was  entered  into  immediately.  Mahega 
soon  discovered  the  motive  which  impelled  his 
new  friends  so  strongly  to  espouse  his  cause, 
and  was  thereby  satisfied  that,  for  the  present  at 
least,  he  might  trust  them.  Before  nightfall,  thn 
white  tent  of  Prairie-bird  was  pitched  at  the 
edge  of  the  Upsaroka  camp,  and  the  Osages  took 
up  their  quarters  around  it,  so  that  none  could 
leave  or  enter  it  unperceived  by  them. 

Early  on  the  following  morning  Mahgae  re- 
ceived a  visit  from  the  Crow  chief,  who,  accom- 
panied by  Besha,  came  ostensibly  to  show  him 
courtesy,  but  in  reality  to  inspect  his  packages, 
horses,  men,  and  equipments;  and,  if^ possible, 
to  solve  the  mystery  of  the  Great  Medicine  in 
the  white  tent.  The  Osage  warriors,  strong, 
weather-beaten  men,  every  one  provided  with  a 
rifle  in  addition  to  the  usual  arms  of  an  Indian, 
had  no  reason  to  fear  the  scrutinizing  .:  of  the 
Crow;  indeed,  the  latter  began  already  to  cal- 
culate how  he  might  best  avail  himself  of  their 
aid  in  an  expedition  which  he  meditated  against 
his  hereditary  enemies,  the  Black-Feet. 

After  the  pipe  had  been  smoked,  and  food  set 
before  his  guests,  Mah£ga  desired  one  of  tha 
smaller  packages  to  be  opened,  from  which  he 
selected  a  blanket,  and  spreading  upon  it  vari- 
ous beads  and  trinkets,  presented  the  whole,  in 
token  of  friendship,  to  Ihe  Upsaroka  chief,  who 
seemed  highly  delighted  with  the  gift. 

His  expressions  of  gratitude,  conveyed  through 
Besha,  were  unbounded.  He  did  not,  however, 
think  it  requisite  to  express,  at  the  same  time, 
his  vehement  desire  to  oecome  the  possessor  of 
all  the  goods  and  chattels  belonging'  to  the  Osage ; 
neither  did  the  latter  forget  to  propitiate  the  in- 
terpreter, whom  he  presented  with  a  kniie,  and 
ornamented  sheath,  both  of  which  were  gra- 
ciously accepted. 

The  Crow  was  resolved  not  to  leave  the  spot 
until  he  had  solved  the  enigma  of  the  mysterious 
tent;  and  finding  that  his  guest  still  kept  silence 
on  the  subject,  he  directed  Besha  to  use  his  best 
exertions  towards  the  gratification  of  his  curi- 
osity. An  opportunity  being  afforded  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  Lita,  who  went  out  to  draw  some 
water  from  the  stream,  the  interpreter  inquired 
whether  that  woman  was  the  "  Great  Medicine," 
of  which  he  had  spoken. 
*  Mahega,  who  was  desirous  of  impressing  the 
Crows  with  a  due  respect  for  Prairie-bird,  shook 
his  head,  replying,  "  That  is  the  slave  of  the 
Great  Medicine." 


Besha.  "Is  the  Great  Medicine  a  chief— a 
wise  man  V 

Mah  ga.  "  No :  it  is  in  the  form  of  a  woman ; 
but  its  power  is  very  great.  It  talks  with  the 
Great  Spirit,  and  the  Wahconda*  listens  to  its 
speech !'' 

Besha.  "Many  are  the  medicine-men  who 
talk  with  the  Great  Spirit ;  they  see  dreams,  and 
give  counsel  to  the  warriors  and  chiefs ;  there  is 
no  new  Medicine  here." 

"  My  brother  speaks  truth,"  said  Ihe  Osage, 
.smiling  scornfully.  "  But  if  the  medicine-men 
of  the  Upsaroka  call  to  the  sun,  will  he  come  out 
of  his  path,  or  hide  his  face  at  their  words?" 

Having  thus  spoken,  Mahega  lowered  his 
voice,  as  if  afraid  of  being  overheard  by  the  mys- 
terious tenant  of  the  t:nt,  and  related  to  the  won- 
dering Besha  the  circumstances  attending  the 
late  eclipse. 

The  interpreter  having  given  the  explai.atioa 
to  his  chief,  Ihey  looked  at  each  other  in  speech- 
less astonishment ;  for  not  only  was  there  an  air 
of  truth  in  the  statement  of  Mah6ga,  but  the 
Crows  having  themselves  observed  tne  mystery 
of  the  darkened  sun,  were  thereby  led  to  listen 
with  believir.,?  awe  to  the  wonderful  disslosure 
made  by  the  Osage. 

Perceiving  his  advantage,  the  latter  again  re- 
lapsed into  silence,  which  was  broken,  after  a  iew 
mmutes,  by  the  interpreter,  who  inquired,  on  the 
part  of  his  chief,  whuther  the  Great  Medicine  of 
the  tent  would  receive  a  present  from  him.  To 
this  the  cautious  Osage  replied,  that  the  daughter 
of  the  Unknown  cared  not  for  the  things  belong- 
ing to  other  women ;  but  that  her  smile  and  her 
good  words  would  bring  prosperity  to  those  with 
whom  she  dwelt,  while  her  curse  would  ensure 
their  destruction ;  on  which  account  it  would  not 
do  any  harm  if  the  Upsaroka  were  to  offer  a  pres- 
ent to  her  Medicine. 

The  latter  now  finding  that,  during  this  visit 
at  least,  his  curiosity  would  not  be  gratified  by  a 
sight  of  the  mysterious  dweller  i.i  the  tent,  arose 
and  took  a  courteous  leave  of  the  Osage  chief, 
who  remained  for  some  time  ruminating  abstract- 
edly over  h.  j  future  plans,  and  the  probability  of 
their  ultimate  success. 

Scarcely  half  an  hour  had  elapsed  ere  Besha 
returned,  accompanied  by  two  young  Indians,  one 
of  whom  led  a  wild  horse,  which  he  presented  on 
the  part  of  his  chief  to  Mahega;  and  the  other 
wa.'^  the  bearer  of  a  large  package  of  beaver-skins 
of  the  finest  quality,  which  he  laid  down  at  the 
door  of  the  tent,  and  retired,  casting  back  uneasy 
glances,  apparently  relieved  at  having  safely  ex* 
ecuted  a  commission  fraught  with  danger. 

Mahega  presented  each  of  the  youths  with  a 
handsome  knife,  and  Besha  with  a  mirror,  where- 
in he  contempla  ed  his  cyclopean  countenance 
with  undi.sgui'ed  satisfaction ;  so  long,  indeed, 
did  he  continue  this  admiring  self-inspection,  that 
the  two  young  Crows  leA  him  engaged  in  it,  and 
returned  to  their  quarters. 

They  had  not  been  long  gone  before  Ihe  inter- 
preter commenced  a  confidential  conversation 
with  the  Osage  chief,  during  which  each  endeav- 
oured, with  little  success  on  either  side,  to  over- 
reach the  other;  at  the  same  time,  the  conference 
was  not  without  its  saiisfactorv  issue  to  both  par- 


*  As  the  Groat  Spirit  is  dcsignatcj  by  the  Delawarcs, 
Chippeways,  SAkis,  and  other  tribes  on  this  side  of  tlie 
Mississippi  by  the  name  of  "  iMunitl6,"  or  "  Munitou,"  la- 
miliar  to  every  rou  "^r  of  Transatluntic  travel  or  roniance* 
so  is  he  known  amoi.j  the  Osages,  Ornahaws,  Inways,  and 
other  Missouri  tribes,  by  the  designation  of  Wah-con-da,. 
or  "  Master  of  Life." 


lift 


138 


THE  PRARIE-BIRD. 


lies;  for  Mah^ga  nsce<-tained  that  the  Crows 
vi(?  W'.'d  the  mixed  band  of  Whites  and  Delawares 
with  feelings  as  hostile  as  his  own,  and  lliat  ihcy 
■were  .To  deeply  impressed  as  he  could  desire  with 
;iwe  for  the  mysterious  powers  of  Prariebini, 
On  the  oi'ier  hand,  Besha  satisfied  himself  that 
Jiis  own  services  would  be  almost  indispensable 
to  ihe  Osage,  and  that  the  latter  was  neither  im- 
willing  nor  unable  to  reward  them  liberally;  so 
that  alter  a  complimentary  conversation  of  some 
length,  these  two  rogues  parted,  with  many  ex- 
pressions of  mutual  regard  and  esteem. 

Scarcely  was  the  interpreter  out  of  sight,  when 
.Mahrga  sprung  from  the  ground  to  examine  more 
closely  ihe  steed  pre>enied  to  him  by  the  Crow 
chief.  It  was  a  strong,  high-mettled  bay  colt,  un- 
tamed, and  almost  untameable ;  if  the  truth  must 
be  told,  the  latter  had  given  it  to  his  guest  because 
neither  he  nor  any  of  his  warriors  could  subdue 
its  violent  and  vicious  spirit,  although  the  Crows 
are  renowned  among  the  Indian  nations  as  bold 
and  expert  horsemen. 

On  whatever  side  Mahrga  endeavoured  to  ap- 
proach to  mount  it,  the  horse  struck  fiercely  at 
him,  using  both  hind  and  fore  feet  with  equal  ra- 
pidity; but  the  Osage,  penetrating  at  once  the 
motives  of  Ihe  Crow's  liberality,  smiled  in  disdain 
of  the  shallow  trick,  and.  seizing  his  opportuni- 
ty, threw  himself  upon  the  wild,  unsaddled  ani- 
mal, despite  of  whose  furious  plunging  and  re- 
sistance, he  sat  unmoved  like  a  centaur;  and  ply- 
ing his  whip  and  heel  with  unmitigated  se/erity, 
compelled  it  to  gallop  at  full  speed  over  the  prai- 
rie, until  he  thought  fit  to  bring  ;t  back  to  the 
camp,  wearied,  breathless,  and  subdued.  Then 
throwing  the  halter  to  one  of  his  men,  he  quietly 
.resumed  his  pipe,  leaving  the  Crow  chief  and  his 
people  to  draw  their  own  conclusions  from  what 
they  had  seen. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

ContAining  various  incidents  tlint  occurred  to  the  party 
follnwInK  the  Trail.— Plots  and  Counterplots,  and  8  dis- 
cussion upon  Or.itnry,  wlilcli  is  very  much  out  of 
place,  and,  fortunately  for  the  reader,  is  not  very  long. 

There  is  scarcely  any  position  or  occasion  in 
life  more  gratifying  to  a  youn^  and  generous 
spirit,  than  when  it  finds  itself,  for  the  first  time, 
entrusted  with  a  high  responsibility.  The  elas- 
.tic  mind,  far  from  succumbing  under  the  un- 
wonted burden,  springs  upward  with  increased 
vigour  to  resist  its  pressure ;  and  the  trials  and 
difficulties  which  threaten  to  overwhelm  it,  only 
serve  to  call  forth  and  multiply  its  energies. 
.tSuch  was  the  case  with  Wingenund,  who  now 
found  himself,  although  not  yet  seventeen  years 
■of  age,  leading  a  gallant  band  on  a  trail, — a  task 
which  is  at  all  times  the  greatest  trial  of  an  In- 
dian warrior's  skill ;  and,  if  successful,  lays  the 
foundation  of  his  fame.  The  issue  at  stake  was, 
in  this  instance,  heightened  by  the  importance 
of  the  object  to  be  attained,  and  by  the  remark- 
able circumstance  that  he  had  ventured  to  difler 
from,  and  overrule,  the  opinion  of  his  elder 
brother,  the  most  sagacious  warrior  of  the  tribe. 

Fully  impressed  with  the  serious  responsibili- 
ty that  he  had  incurred,  the  yout^  set  forth 
upon  the  trail  with  a  gravity  of  demeanour 
which  contrasted  strongly  with  his  almost  boy- 
ish years.  Yet,  while  his  keen  eye  darted  from 
point  to  point,  sufTerLng  not  a  blade  of  grass  to 


escape  its  scrutiny,  his  countenance  wore  a 
beaming  liiok  of  confidenci-,  that  imparted  its 
cheering  intluence  to  the  whole  party. 

For  some  hours  he  marched  rapidly  forward, 
with  the  assured  step  of  a  man  who  was  tiead- 
ing  a  fumiliar  path.  Attu  followed  at  no  great 
distance,  next  to  whom,  on  the  trail,  came  Regi- 
nald, with  Ethelston,  Baptiste,  and  the  mher 
Whites,  the  line  being  closed  by  the  Delawares, 
who  brought  up  the  rear.  It  may  easdy  be 
imagined  that  Reginald  bent  his  eyea  anxiously 
o"  the  path ;  but  althc  'h  frequent  traces  were 
discernible  of  the  passage  of  men,  as  well  as  of 
various  animals,  he  could  not  discover  the  slight- 
est indication  of  the  marks  for  which  he  looked  ; 
neither  did  the  observation  of  the  more  experi- 
enced Baptiste  meet  with  any  better  success. 

When  Wingenund  reached  the  streamlet,  on 
the  sandy  edge  of  which  he  had  before  noticed 
the  light  tread  of  a  foot,  which  in  spite  of  its  di- 
mension, he  believed  to  be  that  of  Prairie-bird 
or  her  attendant,  ho  halted  the  party,  and  sum- 
moned Atto  to  a  close  examination  of  the  trail. 
Stooping  over  it,  the  Indian  looked  long  and 
earnestly,  after  which  he  shook  his  head,  as  if 
dissatisfied,  and  muttering  a  few  words,  the 
meaning  of  which  Baptiste  was  not  near  enough 
to  catch.  Wingenund  made  no  reply,  and  cross- 
ing the  brook,  resumed  the  trail  on  its  opposite 
bank. 

"  Does  Alto  find  the  mark  of  women's  feet  on 
the  sand  V  inqui'-^d  Baptiste. 

"  He  is  not  sure ;  bison  have  passed  over  the 
marks,  and  trodden  them,"  was  the  evasive  re- 
ply, and  the  parly  proceeded  on  the  track. 

Nothing  of  any  importance  occured  fur  some 
lime  to  enliven  the  tedium  of  the  march.  The 
sanguine  hopes  of  Reginald  had  been  checked 
by  what  had  fallen  from  Atto,  of  whose  acute- 
ness  he  justly  enierlained  a  high  opinion.  Ethel- 
ston seemed  buried  in  deep  retle'  tion  ;  and  even 
the  comic  sallies  of  Monsieur  Perrot  failed  to 
excite  any  mirth  in  those  to  whom  they  were 
addressed. 

"  Ethelston,  I  fear  that  I  acted  imprudently," 
said  his  friend,  in  a  low  voice,  "  when  I  preferred 
the  counsel  of  this  youth  to  the  more  experienced 
opinion  of  War-Eagle ;  yet  there  was  something 
in  his  manner  that  I  could  not  resist." 

"  Doubtless,"  replied  Ethelston,  "the counsel 
of  the  elder  warrior  was  entitled  to  the  greater 
weight ;  and  yet  I  do  not  think  that  he  would 
himself  have  placed  this  detachment  under  the 
guidance  of  Wingenund,  unless  he  felt  sure  that 
the  latter  had  strong  grounds  for  the  tenacity 
with  which  he  clung  to  his  opinion." 

"  I  would  willingly  peril  my  life  on  his  truth 
and  fidelity,"  said  Reginald.  "The  question  is, 
whether  on  this  occasion  he  may  not  have  been 
led  into  some  error  by  the  very  eagerness  of  his 
wishes),  and  the  ardour  of  his  temperament." 

Scarcely  had  he  uttered  these  words,  when 
Wingenund  stooped  to  pick  up  a  small  object 
which  his  quick  eye  had  caught  beside  the  trail, 
in  another  minute  he  placed  it  in  the  hand  of 
Reginald,  while  a  triumphant  smile  lit  up  his 
animated  features.  The  object  referred  to  was 
a  slip  of  folded  paper,  damp  with  the  dew  which 
had  fallen  upon  it.  Reginald  opened  its  Mia, 
then  gazed  upon  it  in  silence,  with  a  fixed  look, 
like  one  in  a  trace,  while  his  powerful  frame 
trembled  from  head  to  foot.    The  paroxysm  of 


ance  wore  ?, 
t  imparled  iis 
)arly. 

ipidly  forward, 
vho  was  Head- 
ed ut  111)  great 
all,  came  ii(');i- 
and  the  mlier 
the  Delawares, 
may  easdy  be 
eyea  anxiously 
Jilt  traces  were 
,  as  well  as  of 
over  the  slight- 
ich  he  looked ; 
e  more  experi- 
tter  success, 
e  streamlet,  on 
before  noticed 
I  spite  of  its  di- 
of  Prairie-bird 
larty,  and  sum- 
on  of  the  trail, 
oked  long  and 
his  head,  as  if 
ew  words,  the 
lot  near  enough 
eply,  and  cross- 
on  its  opposite 

iomen'3  feet  on 

passed  over  the 
the  evasive  re- 
the  track. 
;cured  for  some 
e  march.  The 
1  been  checked 
f  whose  acute- 
opinion.  Gthel- 
'.ion ;  and  even 
Perrot  failed  to 
hom  they  were 

i  imprudently," 
I'hen  I  preferred 
ore  experienced 

was  something 
jsist." 

n, "  the  counsel 
I  to  the  greater 

that  he  would 
nnent  under  the 
le  felt  sure  that 
or  the  tenacity 
on," 

fe  on  his  truth 
rhe  question  is, 

not  have  been 
agerness  of  his 
mperanient." 
e  words,  when 
a  small  object 
)eside  the  trail, 
in  the  hand  of 
mile  lit  up  his 
eferred  to  was 
the  dew  which 
ened  its  foMs, 
ih  a  fixed  look, 
Hjwerful  frame 
e  paroxysm  of 


THK   PRAIRIE- niRT). 


130 


excilrriirnt  lusted  only  but  for  a  momPnt,  then 
liiiitliij:;  the  ^lip  of  piiper  into  the  hand  of  Kthel- 
i.wiiri,  lie  threw  liiiiiself  into  the  arms  of  Winge- 
niiiid  ;  and,  if  a  tear  escaped  him,  it  fell  unseen 
upon  the  bosom  which  he  pressed  with  grateful 
allec'tion  to  his  heart. 

Meanwhile  Ethelston  made  himself  master  of 
the  secret  which  had  produced  an  effect  so  sud- 
den, as  to  cause  the  greatest  astonishment  in  the 
whole  party,  now  gatiiered  round  to  ascertain 
what  had  happened.  He  had  read  on  the  slip 
the  magical  word  •'  Follow,"  written  in  a  distinct 
legible  hand,  and  every  doubt  as  to  the  Prairie- 
bird  having  passed  along  the  trail  vanished  in  an 
instant.  This  was  no  sooner  made  known  to 
the  hunters,  an<l  by  Baptiste  to  the  Delawares, 
than  a  shout  ot  triumph  from  the  whole  party 
roused  Reginald  from  the  momentary  weakness 
into  which  he  had  been  betrayed. 

"Follow  thee  !"  he  exclaimed  aloud,  holding 
the  paper  in  his  left  hand,  and  grasping  a  rifle  in 
his  right ;  "  Follow  thee,  dearest  one  !  yes,  over 
prairie  and  mountain,  through  valley  and  river, 
in  cold  or  in  heat,  in  hunger  or  thirst,  there  are 
those  here  who  will  never  cease  to  follow  thee, 
until  thou  art  set  free,  and  the  injuries  done  to 
thyself  and  thy  kindred  dearly  avenged  !" 

Again  a  shout  of  sympathetic  enthusiasm 
broke  from  the  parly,  as  they  caught  the  words 
of  their  leader,  and  read  on  his  glowing  counte- 
nance the  intense  ardour  of  feelings,  too  strong 
to  be  repressed. 

What  must  have  been,  in  the  meantime,  the 
sensations  of  the  Delaware  youth  t  The  affec- 
tionate yearnings  of  his  henrt  towards  his  adopt- 
ed brother,  his  deep  anxiety  for  his  sister's  fate, 
his  future  fame  as  the  rising  war-chief  of  his 
tribe,  all  these  combined  together  to  swell  the 
triumph  of  the  hour;  yet  there  was  not  visible 
in  his  features  the  slightest  appearance  of  grati- 
fied pride  or  vanity ;  and  if  his  dark  eye  beamed 
with  a  brighter  lustre,  it  was  not  so  much  with 
self-congratulation  at  what  he  had  done,  as  with 
high  aspirations  for  the  glorious  task  before  him. 

Ethelston,  who  had  watched  him  closely,  was 
surprised  at  his  calm,  unmoved  demeanour,  and 
whispered  to  Baptiste, "  Wingenund  evinces  lit- 
tle anxiety  or  emotion  on  this  occasion;  and  yet 
this  undouwted  token  which  he  has  found  on  the 
trail  must  be  a  great  triumph  to  him,  after  the 
doubts  expressed  by  so  many  warriors  of  great- 
er experience." 

"  It's  partly  the  natur',  and  partly  the  train- 
in'  of  the  boy,"  replied  the  Guide,  leaning  on  his 
long  rifle ;  the  stronger  his  feelings  the  less  will 
he  show  'em  to  another  man.  I  reckon  this  has 
been  one  of  the  proudest  moments  in  his  life, 
yet,  as  you  say,  he  looks  almost  as  if  he'd  no- 
thin'  to  do  with  the  matter ;  and  he'd  look  the 
same  if  the  Osages  were  pinchin'  his  flesh  with 
hot  tongs.  Wingenund  is  three  years  older  now 
than  he  was  last  month  !" 

"  You  are  right,  Baptiste,"  replied  Etiielston ; 
"it  is  not  days,  nor  weeks,  nor  months,  but 
rough  trials,  brave  deeds,  and  deep  feelings  that 
make  up  the  calendar  of  human  life." 

So  saying,  he  sighed,  and  musingly  resumed  j 
his  place  in  the  line  of  march,  remembering  in  { 
How  short  a  space  of  time  Nina's  unrequited  j 
love  had,  while  she  was  still  younger  than  the  i 
lad  of  whom  he  was  speaking,  consigned  her, '. 
wasted  and  heart-broken,  to  the  grave.  i 


Again  \Vin;'rnund  moved  swiftly  forward  oa 
the  trail,  and  tlii-  wludf  party  followed,  their 
hope?  excited,  and  their  spirits  raised  by  the 
occurrence  above  related.  Reginald  walked  si- 
lently on,  still  clasping  in  his  hand  the  magic 
token  which  had  conjured  up  hopes  ami  thoughts 
too  deep  for  utterance.  From  time  to  time  his 
lips  unconsciously  murmured  "Ful'ow!"  and 
"hen  the  idea  shot  like  fire  through  bis  brain, 
hat  all  his  power  to  obey  the  dear  bi  hfst  hung 
ipon  the  „agacity  of  the  youth  who  was  now 
(racing  the  step,-  of  an  enemy,  skilled  in  all  the 
wiles  of  Indi!"  warfare,  and  whose  object  it 
clearly  was  U  .>uii1u  pursuit. 

Before  the  close  of  day  the  watchful  perse- 
v.^rance  of  Wingenund  was  again  rewarded  by 
finding  another  of  the  slips  of  paper  dro|ij<>d  by 
-tairie-bird,  which  he  brought,  as  belTi'e,  to 
Reginald.  The  magic  "  Follow"  again  met  his 
longing  eyes ;  and  as  he  announciJ  it  to  the 
rest  of  the  party,  a  joyful  anticipation  of  success 
pervaded  every  breast. 

After  a  brief  consultation  with  Atto,  Winge- 
nund now  resolved  to  halt  for  the  night,  as  the 
increasing  darkness  rendered  it  impossible  any 
longer  to  distinguish  the  trail  with  accuracy ; 
so  the  horses  were  picketed,  the  succession  of 
sentries  arranged,  and  the  party  bivouacked 
under  the  shelter  of  two  enormous  pines,  where 
the  preparations  foiA  substantial  supper  were 
soon  completed,  Monsieur  Perrot  taking  charge 
of  that  destined  for  Reginald  and  Ethelston, 
while  Bearskin  and  the  other  hunters  prepared 
a  meal  for  themselves  and  the  Delawares  apart. 
Wingenund  was  about  to  join  the  latter  party ; 
but  at  the  earnest  request  of  the  two  Iriends,  he 
placed  himself  beside  them,  Baptiste  being  in- 
vited to  sit  down  with  them  also. 

R  may  be  imagined  that  the  conversation 
turned  chiefly  upon  the  all-eirgross;  ig  <iubjeot 
of  the  pursuit  in  which  they  were  engaged ;  and 
Ethelston  was  struck  by  the  change  which  he 
observed  in  the  demeanour  of  Wingenund ;  for 
the  latter  had  now  put  off  the  gravity  and  some- 
what haughty  bearing  of  the  aspiring  warrior, 
and  had  resumed  the  playful  and  touching  sim- 
plicity of  manner  that  was  natural  to  his  years, 
and  accorded  equally  well  with  the  almost  femi- 
nine delicacy  of  his  features,  and  the  soft  melo- 
dy of  his  voice.  He  took  no  pains  to  conceal 
the  pleasure  with  which  he  received  the  warm 
and  sincere  encomium  that  Reginald  passed 
upon  the  patience  and  sagacity  that  he  had  dis- 
played in  his  arduous  task. 

"  Netis  owes  me  no  thanks,"  he  said,  smiling. 
"  Love  for  my  sister  and  revenge  on  the  Wash- 
ashees,  who  like  cowards  and  false  friends  slew 
my  kindred, — these  lead  me  on  the  trail.*' 

"  R  is  not  your  eagerness,  nor  the  strength 
of  ;\/ur  motives  that  I  call  in  question,  dear 
Wingenund ;  but  I  am  surprised  that  you  are 
able  to  follow  so  slight  a  trail  without  being  de- 
ceived by  the  tricks  and  devices  of  the  Osage." 

"  The  Black  Father  has  often  told  me  that 
among  the  southern  men  there  are  dogs  who 
can  follow  the  foot  of  a  man  by  day  or  night, 
and  will  never  leave  the  scent  till  they  seize 
him.  If  an  antelope  is  wounded,  the  wolf  will 
hunt  the  track  of  her  blood  on  the  prairie  till  he 
finds  her  ;  if  a  bison  is  killed,  turkey-buzzards, 
many  in  number,  fly  from  far  to  the  carcase, 
though  there  is  no  trail  in  the  air  for  them  'c 


I  i 


>  i 


I' 


140 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


follow.  Is  it  wotiderAil  that  the  Great  Spirit 
should  bestow  on  the  son  of  his  ancient  people 
a  gift  enjoyed  by  these  beasts  and  fowls  1" 

"  What  you  say  is  true,"  replied  Reginald, 
"yet  certainly  we  who  live  in  settlements  have 
not  these  faculties ;  at  least  wu  have  them  in  a 
very  inferior  degree." 

"  The  wise  men  of  our  nation  have  always 
said  that  the  eyes  and  ears  of  while  men  are 
not  good  ;  but  the  Black  Father  says  that  their 
speech  is  not  true,  for  that  the  Great  Spirit  has 
made  the  oars  and  eyes  uf  red  and  white  men 
alike,  only  the  Palelaces  do  nut  improve  them 
as  we  do  by  use." 

"  Your  Black  Father  may  say  what  he  likes," 
interposed  Daptiste,  "  but  1  maintain  that  the 
ears  of  a  white  man  are  no  more  like  the  ears 
of  a  real  Ingian  than  the  paws  of  a  bear  are  like 
the  legs  of  an  antelope.  I  remember,  though 
it's  now  lome  twenty  years  ago,  I  was  out  on  a 
hunt  in  the  North  with  a  Delaware  comrade ; 
he  was  called  in  the  tribe  ■  The-man-who-hears- 
from-far ;' — to  spv  truth,  I  thought  he  often  pre- 
tended to  hear  things  that  never  happened,  only 
just  to  keep  up  his  name.  We  had  walked  all 
the  morning,  and  having  killed  an  elk,  sat  down 
to  cook  it  on  the  prairie.  All  at  once  he  held 
up  his  finger  for  roe  to  keep  silence ;  and  turn- 
ing his  head  to  listen,  his  countenance  changed 
and  his  ear  pricked  up  lij^that  of  a  scared  due. 
Nay,  Master  Reginald,  )mi  need  not  smile,  for 
it's  as  true  as  a  gun-barrel ;  and  said  I, '  What's 
the  matter  nuwl'  He  made  no  answer,  but 
went  a  little  way  off;  and  lying  down,  put  the 
side  of  his  head  to  the  ground.  He  soon  re- 
turned, and  told  me  that  a  '  big  canoe  was  com- 
ing over  the  lake.'  '  What,'  said  I,  •  over  that 
lake  we  passed  this  morning  beyond  those  high 
woods  V  '  Yes,'  he  replied, '  the  same ;  I  hear 
the  paddles  dip  in  the  water.'  I  laughed  in  his 
face,  and  told  him  he  was  dreaming;  fur  the 
lake  was,  maybe,  two  miles  off;  but  he  declared 
that  he  had  heard  the  paddles  as  plain  as  he  now 
heard  my  voice.  I  tried  to  li  tten,  but  could  not 
hear  a  sound ;  however,  I  kn  3W  that  if  he  was 
right,  the  oanoe  would  be  full  of  enemies,  seein' 
that  we  had  no  particular  friends  then  in  the 
Dahcotah  country,  and  I  thought  it  better  to  be- 
lieve him  for  once  ;  so  we  put  more  sticks  on  the 
fire,  to  make  as  great  a  smoke  as  we  could,  and 
then  ran  off  to  the  top  of  a  hill,  where  a  big  pine- 
tree  grew ;  and  as  it  was  about  half  way  between 
the  fire  and  the  lake,  we  clomb  in  among  its 
branches,  where  we  could  have  a  good  look-out 
on  both.  We  remained  some  time  without  hear- 
ing or  seeing  anything ;  and  I  began  to  conceive 
that  my  comrade  had  made  a  fool  of  me,  as  well 
as  of  himself,  when  we  saw  five  or  six  Sioux 
devils  peep  out  of  the  brush  at  the  edge  of  the 
prairie,  where  they  pointed  to  the  smoke  that 
rose  from  our  fire,  and  began  to  creep  cautious- 
ly towards  it." 

At  this  point  the  narrative  of  the  Guide  was 
unexpectedly  interrupted  by  a  sharp  cry  i  ered 
by  Monsieur  Perrot,  who  jumped  up  from  his 
seat,  and  capered  like  a  harlequin,  making  at  the 
same  time  the  most  doleful  grimaces  and  ejacu- 
lations. Wingenund  was  the  first  to  perceive 
and  to  explain  to  Reginald  the  cause  of  the  un- 
fortunate valet's  distress,  in  doing  which  he 
laughed  with  such  hearty  inexpressible  mirth, 
that  the  tears  started  from  his  eyes. 


It  appeared  that  Monsieur  Perrnt,  in  his  anx- 
iety to  hear  Baptiste's  adventure,  had  iincon- 
sciously  edged  himself  nearer  and  nearer  lo  tho 
fire,  by  the  side  of  which  was  a  small  pile  of 
dry  burrs  and  prickly  adhesive  twigs;  wlnlu 
sitting  upon  these,  and  listening  intently  to  tlio 
narrative,  they  had  become  accidentally  ignitcil, 
and  not  only  burnt  him  as  he  sat,  hut  adliercil 
to  his  nether  garments  when  he  jumped  u;j, 
where  they  continued  to  crackle  and  siuoko  m 
spite  of  the  efforts  which  he  made  to  disengage 
himself  from  them.  To  add  to  his  terror,  he  re- 
membered at  this  critical  junct:ire  that  thurc 
was  a  powder-flask  in  the  hinder  pocket  uf  \m 
jacket ;  a  circumstance  which  he  communiuaicd 
to  his  master  with  renewed  exclamations,  and 
unavailing  attempts  to  rid  himself  of  the  dan- 
gerous magazine.  On  hearing  this,  Ethelstun 
emptied  a  vessel  full  of  water  over  a  blanket 
that  lay  beside  him,  in  which  he  immediately 
enveloped  the  alarmed  valet,  and  by  this  ready 
application  of  one  element  freed  him  from  tho 
more  serious  danger  to  be  apprehended  from  the 
other. 

As  soon  as  the  gravity  of  the  party  was  in 
some  degree  restored,  Reginald  requested  tho 
Guide  to  conclude  the  narrative  which  had  been 
so  unexpectedly  interrupted,  expressing  at  tho 
same  time  his  curiosity  to  learn  how  Baptiste 
and  his  comrade  had  extricated  themselves  front 
their  unpleasant  position  among  the  branches 
of  the  pine-tree. 

"  Why,  you  see,  Master  litgina!'.!;  as  soon  as 
they  were  fairly  busied  in  making  their  way  to 
the  fire  which  we  had  lefl  burning,  we  slipped 
down  the  tree,  and  struck  into  the  wood,  where 
we  had  no  difiiculty  in  finding  their  back-trail  to 
the  lake,  and  creeping  cautiously  towards  the 
shore,  we  found  that  the  hot-headed  fuels  had 
left  no  one  to  watch  their  canoe,  which  we  spied 
under  the  boughs  of  an  alder  that  hung  over  the 
leke ;  so  we  just  stuck  a  piece  of  stick  in  the 
ground,  with  a  Delaware  mark  on  it  to  vex  'em 
on  their  return,  when  we  paddled  away  to  the 
other  side  ;  and  having  bored  two  holes  in  the 
canoe,  and  broken  the  paddles,  we  went  on  our 
way ;  and  since  that  time  I've  always  held  my 
own  opinion  about  an  India  I'a  ears,  and  I'm  not 
likely  to  change  it  now." 

Whether  the  Guide's  story  was  tedious,  or 
that  the  fatigues  of  the  day  had  produced  their 
effects  upon  his  hearers,  certain  it  is,  that  sooa 
after  its  conclusion  both  the  ears  and  eyes  ot 
the  greater  portion  were  closed  in  sleep,  and 
nothing  having  occurred  during  the  night  to 
alarm  those  who  had  watched,  the  whole  par- 
ty set  forward  as  soon  as  daylight  broke  on  the 
following  rooming. 

Wingenund  had  no  difiiculty  in  making  out 
the  trail  until  he  reached  the  banks  of  the  river, 
in  crossing  which  Mah^ga  had  taken  so  much 
pains  to  mislead  his  pursuers.  Here  the  youth 
halted,  and  informed  Reginald  that  he  might 
luuk  for  game  during  the  remainder  of  the  day, 
as  it  would  be  necessary  for  him  and  Atto  to 
search  for  War-Eagle's  party,  and  with  them  to 
find  the  right  trail  on  the  opposite  bank. 

The  two  Delawares  started  at  a  rapid  pace 
to  the  westward,  bestowing  as  they  went  care- 
ful attention  to  the  various  tracks  of  bison  and 
other  animals  which  had  crossed  at  the  different 
fords  that  they  passed.    After  a  toilsome  march 


THE   PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


Mr 


rot,  in  hjn  ant- 
re,  had  iiiicon- 
iR-aror  U>  i|in 
a  small  pile  of 
>  twigs;  wliilu 
intently  to  tho 
entally  ijjniltil, 
It,  hut  adiiercil 
he  jumped  up, 
and  siuuko  mi 
e  to  diseni^agu 
ia  terror,  hu  rc- 
:;ire  that  thure 
ir  pocket  of  hiti 
communiuatcd 
lamations,  and 
elf  of  the  dan- 
this,  Ethelsturt 
over  a  blanket 
10  immediaielv 
il  by  this  ready 
I  him  from  tho 
ended  from  tho 

e  party  was  in 
requested  tho 
which  had  been 
pressing  at  tho 
n  how  IJaptisto 
lemseivcsfroni 
the  branches 

I'i,  as  soon  as 
g  their  way  lo 
ing,  we  slipped 
le  wood,  where 
eir  back-trail  to 
ly  towards  the 
:adcd  fools  had 
which  we  spied 
t  hung  over  the 
of  stick  in  the 
n  it  to  vex  'enu 
d  away  to  the 
fo  holes  in  the 
re  went  on  our 
■ways  held  my 
rs,  and  I'm  not 

as  tedious,  or 
>roduced  their 
it  is,  that  soon 
s  and  eyes  ot 
in  sleep,  and 
the  night  to 
he  whole  par- 
t  broke  on  the 

n  making  out 
;s  of  the  river, 
■ken  so  much 
!ere  the  youth 
hat  he  might 
er  of  the  day, 

and  Atta  to 

with  them  to 

bank. 

a  rapid  pace 
sy  went  care- 

of  bison  and 
t  the  different 
iisome  march 


of  some  hours,  they  fell  in  with  War-Engle's 
party,  whom  they  found  nccupind  in  a  like  in- 
vestigation. The  chief  learnt  his  young  broth- 
er's success  with  undisguised  pleasure ;  his  na- 
ture was  too  noble  to  entertain  a  thought  of 
jealousy  ;  and  one  of  the  first  wishes  of  his 
heart  was  to  see  Wingenund  take  his  place 
among  the  first  warriors  of  the  tribe.  He  had 
ascertained  beyond  a  doubt,  that  although  the 
horses  of  tho  Osages  had  crossed  tho  river  op- 
posite to  the  trail  whi'-h  he  had  been  following, 
they  had  not  travelled  iir  in  that  direction,  hut 
had  returned  to  the  bed  of  the  river  for  the  ob- 
vious purpose  of  baffling  pursuit ;  and  the  Del- 
awares  now  crossed  to  the  northern  bank,  and 
ader  minute  examination  of  every  path  and 
track  which  led  from  it,  they  arrived  in  the 
evening  at  the  point  from  whence  Wingenund 
started,  confident  that  the  right  trail  must,  if 
the  Osages  had  crossed  at  all,  be  at  some  spot 
lower  down  thestieam. 

The  whole  party,  now  again  reunited,  encamp- 
ed for  the  night,  and  related,  over  their  evening 
meal,  the  indications  and  tracks  which  they  had 
remarked  on  their  respective  lines  of  inarch. 
At  the  earliest  dawn  War-Eagle  was  again  afoot, 
and  after  an  hour's  patient  search,  he  struck 
a  trail,  which  he  pronounced  without  hesita- 
tion, to  be  that  of  the  Osages.  As  it  lead 
through  a  wooded  and  hilly  region  along  the 
base  of  the  Great  Mountains,  abounding  in  nar- 
row and  dangerous  passes,  every  precaution 
was  used  against  ambush  or  surprise ;  War- 
Eagle,  Wingenund,  and  Atto  leading  the  ad- 
vance, with  several  of  the  must  swifl  and  skil- 
ful of  their  warriors,  and  the  white  men,  who 
brought  up  the  rear,  being  cautioned  against 
straggling  or  falling  behind  the  main  body. 

Another  slip  of  paper  found  upon  the  trail, 
bearing  Prairie-bird's  inspirinf  watchword 
"  Follow,"  raised  the  spirits  of  tht-  party  to  the 
highest  pitch.  They  halted  at  nfiidday  to  refresh 
themselves  and  their  horses  for  an  hour,  un- 
der the  shade  of  some  spreading  cedars,  above 
which  rose  a  high  conical  peak,  on  the  sides  of 
which  were  scattered  a  few  dwarf  oaks  and 
other  timber  of  stunted  growth.  Obeying  a  sig- 
nal from  War-Eagle,  Reginald  climbed  with  him 
to  the  summit  of  this  hill,  whence  they  could 
command  an  extensive  view  of  the  sand  hills 
and  undulating  ocean  of  prairie  to  the  east- 
ward,  while  atove  them  to  the  westward  tow- 
ered the  lofly  and  still  distant  mountain-tups, 
clad  in  their  bright  mantle  of  eternal  snow. 

But  it  was  not  to  enjoy  the  splendour  of  this 
magnificent  prospect  that  the  Delaware  had  toil- 
ed up  this  steep  ascent,  or  that  he  now  cast  his 
restless  and  searching  eye  towards  the  north 
and  east  horizon :  he  had  another  object  in 
view.  Neither  did  he  seem  to  have  altogether 
failed  in  its  attainment,  for  after  gazing  long  and 
intently  upon  a  spot  to  the  northward,  his  coun- 
tenance brightened,  and  he  desired  Reginald, 
who  was  unable  to  distinguish  so  distant  a 
spAck  with  the  naked  eye,  to  examine  it  care- 
I'ltly  with  his  telescope,  for  that  he  would  see 
SHuething  there  that  would  make  his  heart 
bisat. 

Reginald  did  so,  and  having  succeeded  in 
catching  the  indicated  object  with  his  glass,  he 
exclaimed,  "  War-Eagle,  my  brother,  you  are 
right,  I  can  see  them  plainly,  one — two.— three 


— aye,  twenty  Indian  lodges,  and  the  whitt  lent 
among  them.  Heaven  lie  praised  for  all  iti 
inercit's,  we  shall  save  her  yet  I" 

For  a  few  moments  the  chief  was  silent,  thetl 
he  said,  "  I,et  my  brother  use  the  glass  again, 
and  say  how  many  lodges  he  can  count." 

"There  seem  to  be  very  many,"  said  Regi- 
nald, ader  n  careful  survey,  "  more  than  tilly, 
but  I  cannot  count  them,  for  the  tent  is  on  a 
small  hill,  and  some  may  be  hid  behind  it." 

"  Mahoga  smokes  llie  pipe  with  a  powerful 
tribe,"  said  the  Delaware,  musing;  and  the  two 
friends  descended  the  hill,  each  contemplating 
according  to  tho  bent  ol  their  respective  charac- 
ters, the  difficulties  yet  to  be  encountered,  and 
the  means  by  which  those  difriuulties  might  be 
overcome. 

Meanwhile  it  must  not  he  supposed  that  Ma- 
hega  remained  in  idle  security  a  resident  in  the 
Crow  encampment ;  he  appreciated  too  justly 
the  skill  and  perseverance  of  War-Eagle  to  sup- 
pose that  the  latter  would  not  strike  and  follow 
his  trail,  ho  therefore  turned  his  attention  to  the 
strenthening  of  his  alliance  with  his  new  friend* 
by  every  means  in  his  po<ver.  In  this  endea 
vour  his  own  sagacity  was  admirably,  thougit 
perhaps  unconsciously,  seconded  by  the  win 
ning  manners  and  character  u.''  Prairie-bird,  foi 
tho  Crows,  who  had  been  prepared  to  look  upon 
her  with  a  feeling  akin  to  dread,  were  agreea- 
bly surprised  by  her  extreme  beauty,  and  the 
gentleness  of  her  demeanour. 

The  cunning  Osage,  knowing  that  she  could 
only  be  drawn  from  the  strict  seclusion  in  which 
she  lived  by  her  never-failing  willingness  to  al- 
leviate suffering,  had  caused  several  children, 
and  others  afflicted  with  illness,  to  be  brought 
to  her,  and  she  n''ver  declined  giving  them  such 
remedies  from  her  remaining  stock  of  medicine 
as  she  thought  most  likely  to  afford  relief 
The  general  success  of  her  simple  pharmacy 
fully  answered  the  expectations  of  Mahega,  in 
the  increasing  anxiety  daily  evinced  by  the 
Crows  to  guard  and  protect  the  "  Great  Medi- 
cine of  the  tent ;"  and  thus,  while  obeying  the 
dictates  of  her  own  gentle  and  humane  feeling, 
the  maiden  little  knew  that  she  was  strengthen- 
ing the  cords  of  her  captivity. 

Neither  did  Mahega  neglect  .o  take  every 
precaution  against  an  attack  or  surprise  on  the 
part  of  War-Eagle  and  his  party.  Although 
ignorant  of  their  precise  force,  he  knew  that 
they  would  in  all  probability  be  well  armed,  and 
was  far  from  satisfied  with  the  position  of  the 
present  encampment  occupied  by  the  Crows. 
After  conversing  once  or  twice  with  Besha, 
and  the  judicious  admixture  of  a  few  presents 
to  that  riisintcrested  personage,  he  learnt  that 
there  was  at  a  distance  of  half  a  day's  march  to 
the  northward  a  favourite  strong  hold  of  the 
Crows,  to  which  they  frequently  resorted  when 
attacked  by  an  enemy  too  numerous  to  be  re- 
sisted in  the  open  plain,  and  it  was  represented 
to  be  in  a  neighbourhood  affording  abundance 
of  game,  and  a  plentiful  supply  of  pasture  for 
the  horses. 

Mahega  found  it  not  a  very  difficult  task  to 
persuade  the  Crow  chief  to  withdraw  to  this 
post,  representing  to  him  the  formidable  equip- 
ment of  the  Delawares  aided  by  their  white  al- 
lies, and  he  urged  him  also  to  send  a  few  of  his 
best  ri'iiners  to  hang  about  the  trail  by  which  he 


143 


THK  PUAIRIE-niRD. 


had  himself  nrrivod,  inthnt  Umo\y  notiuo  ol'thu 
cnoiiiy'B  iipprouoli  iniKlit  ho  received. 

TIk)  C^row  aci)iiie!<(!ed  in  holli  BUKKi's'iiiiifi, 
and  the  united  hand  niuved  oil'  ai'oordinuly  to 
thfi  pout  ahovo  referred  to,  wliieh  they  reached 
in  the  Hfiernnon  uf  tlio  aanie  day  ;  it  was  a  co- 
nical hill,  covered  on  one  side  with  low  juniper 
liiiBlies,  and  rising  suddenly  out  uf  the  prairie 
at  a  distance  of  several  miles  from  the  hii;her 
ranite  of  inoiintains  to  the  west ;  a  few  hundred 
yards  further  to  the  east  was  another  height  of 
similar  elevation,  but  of  less  circuiiiference,  and 
between  these  two  lay  a  valley  of  extreme  fer- 
tility, watered  hy  a  stream  so  cool  and  clear, 
that  it  hespoke  at  onco  the  mountain  source 
whence  it  lluwed  ;  the  eastern  side  of  this  iiec- 
ond  hill  WHS  almost  perpendicular,  so  as  to  he 
eecure  against  any  atiack  from  that  quarter : 
while  nn  enemy  approaching  from  the  valley 
tvould  he  exposed  to  missiles  oliot  from  either 
height. 

Mali<;ga  saw  at  a  glance  the  strength  of  the 
position,  and  proposed  to  the  chief  that  he,  with 
ins  Osages,  should  garrison  the  smaller  height, 
leaving  the  larger  lull  and  the  intermediate  val- 
ley to  be  occnpied  by  the  Crows. 

This  arrangement  being  agreed  upon,  the 
tent  of  Prairie-hird  was  pitched  near  the  sum- 
mit, on  a  spot  where  the  ground  gently  sloped 
to  the  westward,  and  a  few  scattered  oaks, 
cedars,  and  pines  atrord<!d  not  only  a  partial 
shelter  from  the  rays  of  the  sun,  but  a  sufHcient 
supply  of  fuel  for  cooking  the  venison  and  bison 
meat,  which  the  hunters  had  brought  in  abun- 
dantly. Some  twenty  lodges  of  the  Crows 
were  placed  upon  the  opposite  and  larger  height ; 
these  consisted  chiefly  of  the  principal  braves 
and  warriors;  the  intermediate  valley  being 
occupied  by  the  remainder  of  the  band,  and  an 
ample  space  was  letl  for  picketing  the  borsis  at 
night  between  the  two  hills. 

On  arriving:  at  her  new  quarters.  Prairie-bird 
could  not  avoid  being  struck  by  the  singularity, 
as  well  as  by  the  boauty  of  the  scenery.  It  was 
evidenf  that  'iie  face  of  the  sandstone  rock, 
above  which  her  tent  was  pitched,  had  been 
eaten  away  by  the  action  of  water  and  the  ele- 
ments ;  and  she  imagined  that  ere  many  years 
should  pass,  the  precipitous  cliff  on  its  eastern 
front  would  partially  fall  in,  and  leave  in  its 
place  a  broken  and  turreted  ruin,  such  as  she 
had  before  noted  and  admired  on  the  western 
borders  of  the  great  prairie.  It  was  a  great 
relief  to  her  that  she  was  so  much  by  herself; 
for  the  lodge  of  Mahega  and  his  followers  was 
pitched  somewhat  lower  down  the  hill  than 
her  own  tent,  and  she  was  yet  further  removed 
from  the  dirt  and  other  annoyances  of  the  Crow 
lodges.  This  was,  indeed,  a  great  luxury,  a' 
the  quantity  of  bison-meat  brought  into  the 
camp  on  the  first  day's  hunt  was  so  gteat,  that 
the  Upsaroka  women  were  spreading  and  drying 
it  in  every  direction;  ai  '  as  these  ladies  af«- 
not  usually  very  particular  in  removing  tb* 
offal,  the  odour  thence  arising  in  the  valley 
below  was  not  the  sweetest  that  could  be  ima- 
gined. 

Mahega  was  in  high  good  humour  in  ^'onse- 
quence  of  the  successful  r«atilt  of  his  arrange- 
ments ;  for  he  now  occupied  a  post  not  ^mly 
well  protected  against  the  attack  of  an  eneiny, 
but  where  his  baggage  could  not  be  purloined 


by  the  llght-fingored  youths,  who  are  to  provor- 
liiully  uhuiidaiil  uinoiig  the  Crows.  Uut  how- 
ever secure  he  might  feel,  ho  did  not  relax  hm 
usual  vigilance,  m  which  he  was  zealiiunly  sec- 
onded by  'I'owenu ;  and  whenever  the  one  was 
absent  from  the  garrison,  oven  lor  a  short  time, 
tlie  other  ulw  ays  remained  at  home  on  the  watch, 
lie  renewed,  also,  a  ruile  breastwork  of  niihewn 
logs,  which  had  been  thrown  up  hy  the  Crows 
on  some  former  occasion,  and  which  afforded  a 
shelter,  from  behind  which  he  and  his  men 
could  fire  upon  an  approaching  enemy  without 
being  themselves  exposed.       * 

They  had  not  lung  been  settled  in  their  new 
quarters  belure  the  detachment  which  hud  been 
sent  to  reconnoitre  returned  to  report  that  they 
had  seen  the  united  band  uf  while  men  and 
Uelawares,  about  thirty  in  number,  advancing 
cautiously  along  the  base  of  the  hills  towards 
the  Upsaroka  camp.  The  scouts  had  recognised 
Reginald  as  the  person  who  had  killed  one  of 
their  principal  warriors  ;  and  the  announcement 
of  his  approach  was  received  with  n  yell  that 
showed  liow  delorminately  the  Crows  wero 
bent  on  revenge. 

A  war-council  was  immediately  held,  which 
Mahega  was  summoned  to  attend  ;  and  although 
the  wary  Usage  kept  himself  in  the  baekgrnund, 
and  showed  no  disposition  to  offer  his  advtco 
until  twice  pressed  hy  Ucsha  to  do  so,  it  was 
soon  evident  that  his  spirit  would  rule  the  meet- 
ing, and  that  on  him  would  devolve  the  conduct 
of  the  struggle  in  which  they  must  soon  expect 
to  be  engaged  :  such  was  the  impression  already 
made  upon  his  new  allies  by  his  gigantic  stat- 
ure, and  the  air  of  command  that  accompanied 
his  every  word  and  gesture. 

Unless  the  advantage  of  numbers  was  to  be 
very  great  on  his  side,  Mahega  did  not  augur 
favourably  of  the  result  of  an  open  conflict  be- 
tween the  Crows  and  the  small  hut  well-ap- 
pointed force  opposed  to  them.  He  formed  a 
just  estimate  of  the  skill  and  sagacity  uf  War- 
Eagle,  and  of  the  impetuous  courage  of  Regi- 
nald Brandon.  He  hated  both,  especially  the 
latter,  with  all  the  bitter  intensity  of  which  his 
nature  was  capable ;  and  resolved  that  no  strat- 
agem should  be  left  untried  to  heap  upon  tlieia 
every  species  of  suffering  and  disgrace. 

With  this  view,  he  conferred  long,  through^ 
the  medium  of  Besha,  with  the  leading  warriors 
of  the  Crows  as  to  the  nature  of  the  ground  in 
the  neighbour  hood  of  the  enemy's  1  ine  of  march  ; 
being  determined,  if  possible,  to  lead  them  into 
an  ambush ;  or  at  least  to  attack  them  in  some 
defile  or  pass,  where  the  bow  and  arrow  would 
be  a  better  match  for  the  rifle  than  in  the  open 
plain.  N'mi  being  altogethe*  satisfied  with  the 
replies  w^ich  he  received,  he  declined  giving 
lis  opinion  until  he  shoultl  have  reconnoitred 
toie  <i<«»irict  in  person,  and  set  forth  without 
il««ay,  accnmp»Tiied  by  the  dwarfish  interpreter 
«vd  two  .row  warriors,  all  being  mounted  on 
swift  horses 

Havmg  reached  the  base  of  the  first  range  of 
hills,  tke  Crow  who  acted  as  guide  struck  into 
a  narrow  windini;  ravine ;  after  following  the 
course  of  whirh  or  some  distance,  the  party 
emerieed  up'  .i  a.i  elevated  table-land,  which 
lh<fy  crossed  «'  •till  speed,  and  found  themselves 
ai  the  b'le  ■  a  second  range  of  hills,  more 
broken  atid  aang*  than  the  first.    Here  the 


Till!    I'KA  I  HI  IMIIUI). 


143 


nro  10  provur. 

H     liut  Imiw- 

iiDt  ri'lHx  lim 

/.ealoualy  Mcc- 

tli(!  ono  was 

ii  iliort  tune, 

DtilliewiUcli. 

)ik  (iroiilitswn 

by  llie  Crows 

icli  uiriirdi'd  a 

tiiil   Ilia  iiuMi 

iKiiiiy  without 

in  their  new 
hich  had  hvon 
ixirt  tiiut  they 
iitu  iiivii  and 
er,  adviinuing 
hills  iDWardu 
ltd  r(.'uo((iimt<d 
killed  oiiu  ui' 
nnouncnnent 
III  a  yell  timt 

Crows  wero 

y  held,  which 
and  althougli 
(>  tiiifkjjround, 
er  hiii  advico 
do  so,  it  was 
rule  the  iiieet- 
u  the  conduct 
t  soon  expect 
ession  already 
gigHiitic  stat- 
acuuinpaiiied 

ers  was  to  be 
(lid  not  augur 
Bn  conflict  be- 
I  hut  wi'll-ap- 

He  formed  a 
acity  ol'  War- 
rage  of  Uegi- 
especially  the 

of  which  his 

that  no  strat- 
ap  upon  them 
jrace. 

long,  through 
iding  warriors 
the  ^Tound  in 
me  of  inarch ; 
ead  them  into 
them  in  some 

arrow  would 
1  in  the  open 
ified  with  the 
iclined  giving 

reconnoitred 
rorth  without 
lb  interpreter 

mounted  on 

first  range  of 
6  struck  into 
following  the 
ce,  the  party 
-land,  which 
d  themselves 
if  hills,  morn 
t.    Here  tho 


(tuidr    nnil    Mnlnua    diftiDiiiinlril,   anil    haviii);  I 
i-onceiiled  tin:  IxirHi's,  ami  Icfl  lliiiii  lii'liiiid  tlit!  ' 
|iriijt'('tion  i)f  II  nick  in  cli.irife  of  the  oiIiit  two,  ) 
they  rliinlied  with  Moiiie  dilliciilty  tii  iliu  hrow 
(if  a  M.indHtiini'  elifi',  whence  tliey  could   coiii- 
iiiand  an  exicntive  view  of  the  region  to  the 
Hiiuthward 

Creeping  cautiously  to  the  cilge  of  the  height, 
and  ftcreeiiing  themselves  behind  the  jumpers 
and  Mi-anty  hunliea  growing  there,  they  eould 
eatiily  diHlinguish  the  camp  of  the  Deluwares 
iiiid  white  men  in  the  valley  below.  The  band 
had  eoiiie  to  a  halt,  and  were  evidently  engaged 
in  refreshing  themselves  and  their  horses  with 
their  midday  meal. 

The  Osage  chief  glared  upon  them  like  a 
tiger  on  his  anticipated  prey.  He  exiiiiiined 
the  ground  in  front  and  rear  and  Hank  of  their 
IKisition  ;  he  noted  the  breadth  of  the  pas«  where 
the  valley  o|)eiied  out  upon  the  plain  beyond, 
and  questioned  his  guide  closely  as  to  tho  route 
which  thry  would  probably  take  in  advancing 
towards  the  Crow  encampment. 

We  will  leave  him  for  a  time  to  pursue  these 
investigations,  while  we  return  to  Reginald  and 
War-Eagle,  whom  we  left  deliberating  as  to  the 
most  advisable  course  to  be  pursued  for  the  res- 
cue of  Prairie-bird. 

The  Delaware  chief  having  been  soon  in- 
formed by  his  scouts  of  the  enemy's  retreat  to 
another  and  a  stronger  position,  lost  no  time  in 
pushing  forward  Ma  parly  to  tho  point  In  the 
valley  where  it  had  (as  above  mentioned)  been 
descried  by  Mahega  and  his  guide.  Reginald 
and  the  other  white  men  were  at  a  loss  to  imag- 
ine why  War-Eagle  had  selected  for  his  halt  a 
spot  w  here  a  dense  thicket  on  the  side  of  each 
hill  seemed  to  offer  to  an  enemy,  limiiliar  with 
the  country,  a  favourable  opportunity  for  attack- 
ing him  unawares  ;  and  even  Uaptiste,  when 
questioned  upon  the  subject,  shook  his  head, 
saying,  " Wait  till  tomorrow ;  we  shall  know 
by  that  time  what  hole  the  coon  is  making  fur." 
As  for  the  Delawares,  they  ate  their  bison- 
meat  and  smoked  their  pipe  with  as  much  in- 
difference as  if  they  were  in  the  heart  of  their 
own  hunting-ground,  being  confident  in  the  skill 
of  their  leader,  from  the  experience  of  many  a 
foray  and  fight.  The  latter,  having  thrown  for- 
ward two  or  three  of  his  men  as  outposts,  to 
guard  against  siirpriae,  summoned  Wingenur>4, 
to  whom  he  gave,  In  an  earnest  voice,  soiw* 
minute  directions,  which  did  not  reach  the  wws 
of  others  in  tho  party;  and  the  youth,  as  ikhn) 
as  he  had  received  them,  went  up  to  Rr^tMld, 
and  said  to  him,  "  Will  Netis  lend  NeitUMii  to 
Wingenund  ;  he  will  be  back  before  Wht  moon 
is  up, — and  if  he  meets  the  Upsarokan,  he  must 
leave  them  behind." 

Reginald  testified  his  willing  asseiK  to  the 
youth's  request,  and  in  a  few  ininuits  Nekimi 
was  bounding  over  the  prairie  beiieath  his  light 
burden  with  a  speed  that  soon  brought  him  to  a 
point  whence  he  could  command  a  view  of  the 
two  heights,  upon  and  between  which  the  Crows 
were  encamped. 

The  sand-hills  in  that  region  projert  in  many 
places  from  the  base  of  the  (Jreat  Mountains  in- 
to the  open  iijiiiin.  like  the  promontories  of  an 
indented  shore  into  the  ocean,  and  :a  was  hy 
skirting  oneof  these  until  he  reached  its  extrem- 
ity that  he  continued  to  watch  the  encampment 


of  till!  Crows  without  being  ob.iprved  hy  their 
Mi-iiiiu  ;  for  severiil  lioiirit  he  iitood  molionlesa 
by  I  he  side  of  Nekiiiii,  under  the  Hhade  of  a  pine, 
with  that  untiring  palieiieo  wliii'h  ''enders  an 
Indian  unequalled  as  a  xpy,  when  he  saw  liiur 
liorHeiiien  emerge  from  tho  cunip,  and  gallop 
off"  towards  the  base  of  the  mountiiiiis.  As  soon 
as  they  entered  a  valley  where  they  were  screen- 
ed from  his  view,  he  put  Nekimi  to  Ihh  speed, 
and  by  a  shorter  cut  reut'hcd  tho  head  of  tho 
same  valley  before  them,  then  leaving  his  horNO 
behind  a  thicket  of  junipersi  he  crept  forward, 
and  hiding  himself  in  some  brushwood,  waited 
fur  the  passing  of  the  horsemen. 

As  tho  roughness  of  the  ground  had  compell- 
ed them  to  slacken  their  speed,  he  had  no  difli- 
eulty  in  recognizing  Mahtiga,  but  the  features 
of  the  misshapen  interpreter  and  the  Crow  war- 
riors were,  of  course,  strange  to  hiiii.  Me  watch- 
ed the  Osago  chief  and  his  companion  as  they 
climbed  tho  hill,  from  the  lop  of  which  they 
iiiado  their  observations  of  the  Delaware  camp  ; 
and  as  they  returned  and  remounted  their  hor- 
ses, they  passed  so  near  to  his  hidiiig-placu  that 
the  youth  distinctly  heard  two  or  three  words 
which  Maliega  spoke  to  Ueslia  in  the  Osage 
tongue.  Aa  soon  as  they  wero  out  of  sight  ho 
hastened  to  the  spot  where  ho  had  left  Nekimi, 
and  returned  at  full  speed  to  make  his  report  to 
War- Eagle. 

The  chief  had  evidently  been  awaiting  with 
some  impatience  the  return  of  his  messenger, 
and  when  he  received  the  intelligence  which  the 
latter  brought  back,  he  said,  "  It  is  well,  let  Ne* 
tis  and  the  chiefs  be  called  to  council — there  i» 
no  time  to  lose." 

A  few  minutes  sufficed  to  assemble  tho  lead- 
ers, who  were  expected  to  take  a  part  in  the 
deliberations  about  to  be  entered  upon,  all  of 
them  being  well  aware  of  their  vicinity  to  the 
enemy  of  whom  they  had  so  long  been  in  pur- 
suit ;  but  when  called  upon  to  express  their 
opinion  as  to  the  course  to  be  adopted,  a  mani- 
fest reluctance  prevailed,  arising  probably  from 
tho  wild  and  rugged  nature  of  the  region,  and 
from  their  ignorance  of  the  strength  of  the  band 
with  which  Mahega  had  allied  himself.  After  a. 
brief  pause,  Uaptiste,  who  was  thoroughly  versed 
in  i^  character  of  the  Delawares,  arose  and 
•Aid,  "Are  the  tongues  of  the  warriors  tiedl 
tke  sun  will  not  stay  in  his  path,  neither  will 
lfet>  grass  grow  beneath  the  feet  of  the  Washa- 
^ee  and  IJpsaroka;  the  white  rnen  and  the 
Lenape  wait  to  hear  the  voice  of  the  Great 
Chief— let  War-Eagle  speak." 

Thus  called  upon,  the  Delaware  leader  came 
forward  to  address  the  council.  He  painted  the 
wrongs  that  his  tribe  had  sufliered  at  the  hands 
of  the  Osages,  the  treachery  and  cruelties  prac- 
tised on  their  wives  and  children  ;  then  he  dwelt 
on  the  spoiling  of  their  lodges,  the  abduction  of 
Prairie-bird,  and  the  attempted  murder  of  Win- 
genund. Having  thus  roused  the  passions  of 
his  Delaware  hearers,  he  gradually  brought  them 
back  to  a  calmer  state  of  reflection,  by  repre- 
senting to  them  the  dangers  and  difficulties  of 
their  present  position,  owing  to  tho  alliance 
formed  by  their  implacable  enemy  with  the  Up- 
saroka,  who  knew  every  pass  and  dangerous 
defile  of  the  country  through  which  they  were 
marching,  and  he  impressed  upon  them  the  ne- 
cessity of  their  having  recourse  to  stratagem  in 


«|ll^ 


1«4 


THE   PRAIRIE- BIRD. 


V'. 


order  to  make  up  for  their  deficiency  in  numbers 
and  in  local  l<nowledge.  He  then  proceeded  to 
unfold  Ills  plan  of  operations,  which  (as  after- 
wards explained  by  Baptlste  to  Reginald  and 
his  friend)  was  nearly  in  the  following  words : 

"  Mahega  and  the  Upsaroka  will  attack  our 
camp  to-night — the  wolf  shall  fall  into  a  trap — 
they  will  come  to  take  scalps,  let  them  look 
after  their  own — but  we  must  divide  our  party 
— Wingenuiid  has  seen  the  Washashee  camp, 
he  shall  guide  ten  warriors  to  it  in  the  dark,  and 
■while  Mahega  is  leading  his  blind  followers  here, 
the  tomahawk  and  the  fire  shall  be  in  his  lodge !" 

A  deep  murmur  of  approbation  satisfied  the 
chief  as  to  the  sentiments  of  his  stern  and  deter- 
mined band ;  and  Ethelston,  although  he  knew 
not  the  meaning  of  the  words  which  had  been 
uttered,  was  struck  by  the  dignity  with  which 
(hey  had  been  spoken,  and  by  the  rich  and  va- 
ried intonation  of  War-Eagle's  voice. 

"  Reginald,"  said  he,  "  how  much  [  regret 
that  I  could  not  follow  your  Indian  brother  in 
his  discourse.  His  attitudes  brought  to  my 
mind  the  orators  of  old,  as  represented  to  us  by 
classic  pen  and  chisel :  it  seemed  as  if  I  could 
almost  gather  his  meaning  from  his  eloquence 
of  eye  and  tone!" 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Reginald,  "  whether  the 
merit  of  oratory  consists  in  action,  as  held  by  the 
'old  man  eloquent  who  fulmined  over  Greece,' 
or  in  the  art  of  persuasion,  by  convincing  the 
judgment  while  moving  the  passions  of  the  hear- 
ers, as  held  by  the  best  authors  who  have  since 
written  on  the  subject,  War-Eagle  possesses  it 
in  an  eminent  degree." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Ethelston,  "  I  admit  the  per- 
suasive power,  and  the  action  at  once  graceful 
and  commanding,  but  I  maintain  that  there  is 
yet  a  stronger  element,  the  mention  of  which 
you,  and  the  authors  whom  you  quote,  have 
strangely  neglected,  namely,  Truth;  that  im- 
mortal  essence,  which  pervades  the  whole  intel- 
ligent creation,  before  which  falsehood  shrinks 
abashed,  and  sophistry  vanishes  into  vapour. 
This  it  is  that  guides  the  winged  words  of  man 
direct  to  the  heart  of  his  brother :  by  this,  and 
this  alone,  did  the  voice  of  Luther  triumph  over 
the  thunders  of  the  Vatican,  and  beneath  it-s 
TBighty  influence  the  haughty  Felix  trembled 
before  the  captive  apostle.  This  is,  if  I  mistake 
not,  the  secret  of  your  Indian  friend's  oratory ; 
every  word  that  he  utters  finds  an  echo  in  the 
breast  of  those  whom  he  is  addressing.  The 
injuries  that  he  recounts  are  recent ;  the  dan- 
gers against  which  he  warns  them  are  real  and 
present ;  and  the  vengeance  to  which  he  guides 
them,  they  pant  for  with  a  thirst  ardent  as  his 
own." 

"  Far  be  it  from  me,"  replied  Reginald,  "  to 
disparage  the  might  and  majesty  of  truth,  or  to 
doubt  that  in  the  end  it  must  triumph  over  error 
and  falsehood,  as  certainly  as  Good  shall  obtain 
the  victory  over  Evil.  Nevertheless,  I  hold, 
that  as  the  object  of  eloquence  frequently  is  to 
'  make  the  worse  appear  the  better  cause,'  and 
to  guide  the  hearers,  not  so  much  to  their  own 
real  good  as  to  the  immediate  purpose  of  the 
speaker,  there  are  some  occasions  where  he  will 
more  effectively  attain  it  by  working  on  their 
prejudices,  frailties,  and  passions,  than  he  could 
by  the  most  direct  appeal  to  justice  or  to  truth. 
If  Felix  trembled  at  the  denunciations  of  Paul, 


the  holder  and  mightier  spirit  of  Wallenstein 
quailed  before  the  wily  astrologer,  who  pretend- 
ed to  have  interwoven  his  destinies  with  the 
mysterious  movements  of  the  planets." 

"  I  see  the  scope  of  your  argument,  Reginald, 
and  acknowledge  its  force.  It  is  because  men 
obey  the  dictates  of  passion  more  willingly  than 
those  of  conscience,  that  they  are  more  easily 
led  by  the  factious  sophistry  of  a  Cleon  than  by 
the  virtuous  wisdom  of  a  Socrates.  Neverthe- 
less, you  will  nut  deny  that  even  sophistry  and 
faction  bear  testimony  to  the  might  of  truth,  by 
putting  on  her  semblance,  and  disguising  them- 
selves as  her  followers :  thus  do  they  achieve 
success,  until  they  encounter  some  champion 
strong  enough  to  unmask  and  detect  them ;  as 
the  Trojans  fled  before  Patroclus  clad  in  the 
armour  of  Achilles,  until  Hector  pierced  his  dis- 
guise, and  killed  him." 

"  Is  it  not  strange,"  said  Reginald,  laughing, 
'*  that  in  this  wild  and  remote  region,  and  amidst 
its  wandering  tribes,  we  should  renew  discus- 
sions which  we  so  often  held  together  in  early 
days  on  the  banks  of  the  EIhe  and  Rhine  1  I 
remember  that  you  generally  beat  me  in  argu- 
ment, and  yet  permitted  me  to  retain  possession 
of  the  field  of  battle.  On  this  occasion  I  think 
we  must  draw  off  our  forces,  and  neither  claim 
the  victory.  The  Indians  are  already  preparing 
for  the  night's  expedition,  and  interests  so  dear 
to  mo  depend  upon  its  result,  that  I  look  for- 
ward to  it  with  the  deepest  anxiety.  If  War- 
Eagle  is  correct  in  his  calculation,  that  the 
Osages  and  their  allies  will  attack  our  camp  to- 
night, it  is  uncertain  whether  they  will  carry 
Prairie-bird  with  them,  or  leave  her  behind  un- 
der a  guard.  We  must  be  prepared  for  either 
plan ;  and,  in  dividing  our  force,  arrange  it  so 
that,  if  we  succeed,  she  may  be  sure  of  falling 
into  the  hands  of  those  fit  and  authorised  lo 
protect  her.  I  will  take  with  me  Winger. und, 
and  our  steady  friends  Baptiste  and  Pierre :  do 
you  remain  with  War-Eagle,  Paul  Mtiller.  and 
the  main  body  reserved  for  the  defence  of- the 
camp." 

"  Be  it  so,"  replied  Ethelston  ;  "  I  trust  we 
shall  not  be  long  separated,  and  that  before  this 
hour  to-morrow  we  shall  have  rescued  your  be- 
trothed from  her  captors."  He  added,  with  a 
smile,  "  Remember  that  in  our  German  expedi- 
tion you  made  me  many  promises  of  discretion, 
which,  in  the  excitement  of  action,  you  were 
somewhat  apt  to  forget ;  you  must  not  do  so 
now  that  you  are  engaged  in  the  cause  of  one 
to  whom  your  life  is  perhaps  dearer  than  it  is 
to  yourself." 

"  Baptiste  himself  shall  not  be  more  cautious 
than  I  will  be,"  replied  Reginald,  grasping  his 
friend's  hand ;  and  they  parted  to  make  the  re- 
quisite preparations  for  their  respective  duties. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

A  scene  in  the  tent  of  Pralrie-bird,  who  lives  some  pood 
advice,  and  receives  in  a  short  space  of  time  more  than 
one  unexpected  visitor.— The  Crows,  led  by  Mahig.i. 
attack  the  Delaware  camp  hy  night.— The  defeated 
party  achieve  a  kind  of  triumph,  and  the  victors  meet 
with  an  unexpected  loss. 

Thb  evening  passed  away  with  the  rapidity 
usual  in  that  western  region,  where  twilight  has 
no  sooner  thrown  its  dusky  hue  over  mountain 


^ 


THE  PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


145 


f  Wallenstein 
who  pretend- 
nies  with  the 
lets." 

ent,  Reginald, 
because  men 
willingly  than 
e  more  easily 
Cleon  than  by 
8.  Neverthe- 
sophistry  and 
ht  of  truth,  by 
guising  thera- 
they  achieve 
ime  champion 
tect  them;  as 
s  clad  in  the 
ierced  his  dis< 

laid,  laughing, 
)n,  and  amidst 
renew  discus- 
ether  in  early 
and  Rhine!  I 
it  me  in  argu- 
ain  possession 
casion  I  think 

neither  claim 
;ady  preparing 
erests  so  dear 
lat  I  look  Tor- 
ety.  If  War- 
tion,  that  the 
c  our  camp  to- 
ley  will  carry 
ter  behiiid  un- 
ired  for  either 

arrange  it  so 
sure  of  falling 
authorised  lo 
e  Winger.und, 
ind  Pierre:  do 
ul  Miiller,  and 
lefence  of- the 

;  "I  trust  we 
hat  before  this 
icued  your  be- 
addeJ,  with  a 
erman  expedi- 
>  of  discretion, 
ion,  you  were 
ist  not  do  so 
I  cause  of  one 
trer  than  it  is 

more  cautious 
,  grasping  his 
make  the  re- 
active duties. 


I. 

gives  somo  good 
r  time  more  than 
led  by  Mahiga, 
.—The  derenled 
the  victors  meet 

1  the  rapidity 
e  twilight  has 
ver  mountain 


and  plain,  than  it  again  yields  its  place  to  the 
darker  gloom  of  night ;  and  yet  it  were  a  libel 
upon  nature  to  call  by  the  name  of  gloom  that 
uncertain  light  in  which  that  mighiy  landscape 
reposed.  The  moon  was  half  full,  and  her 
beams,  scarcely  piercing  through  the  deep  foli- 
age of  the  wooded  vale,  streaked  with  silver 
lines  its  mossy  herbage  ;  eastward  lay  the  vast 
expanse  of  undulating  prairie,  on  which  count- 
less herds  of  bison  lazily  cropped  the  dew- 
sprinkled  grass,  while  high  above  the  scene 
towered  the  gigantic  peaks  of  th^  Western  An- 
des, slumbering  in  a  light  as  cold  and  pale  as 
their  own  eterniil  snow. 

Nothing  was  heard  to  disturb  the  reign  of 
silence,  save  the  distant  murmur  of  the  stream- 
lets as  they  plashed  from  rock  to  rock  in  their 
descent  to  the  quiet  river  that  flowed  beneath ; 
or  here  and  there  the  stealthy  foot  of  the  panther 
or  prowling  hear.  A  few  stars  glimmered  in 
the  vault  above,  and  clouds  of  ever-varying 
shape  flitted  athwart  its  surface,  now  hiding, 
and  again  partially  revealing  the  dark  outlines 
of  forest,  vale,  and  rugged  cliff. 

It  was  an  hour  and  a  scene  calculated  to  in- 
spire thoughts  of  awe,  piety,  and  gratitude,  to- 
wards the  Creator ;  of  love,  gentleness,  and 
peace  towards  his  creatures ;  and  yet  through 
those  groves  and  glens  feet  more  stealthy  than 
the  panther's  step,  foes  more  fell  than  the  prow- 
ling hear,  now  wound  their  silent  way,  bent  on 
their  secret  errand  of  destruction  and  of  blood. 

In  one  quarter  Reginald,  followed  by  Daptiste, 
Pierre,  and  six  men,  moved  swiflly  across  the 
prairie,  under  the  guidance  of  Wingenund,  to- 
wards the  camp  of  the  Osages  ;  in  another,  Ma- 
lie^a  led  a  numerous  band  through  the  defiles 
before  described,  to  surprise  the  encampment 
of  the  Delawares ;  while  at  the  latter  place 
"VVar-Eagle,  aided  by  Atto  and  his  chosen  war- 
riors, was  making  all  the  necessary  dispositions 
for  a  stratagem  by  which  he  hoped  to  defeat  the 
expected  attack  of  his  enemies. 

It  was  already  several  hours  past  midnight, 
the  moon  had  withdrawn  her  light,  and  Prai- 
rie-bird was  buried  in  the  refreshing  sleep  that 
visits  the  eyelids  of  guileless  youth ;  Lita  slum- 
bered on  a  couch  of  skins  stretched  across  the 
entrance  of  her  mistress's  tent,  before  which,  at 
a  little  distance,  the  Osage  sentry,  seated  by  the 
breastwork  thrown  up  for  the  defence  of  the 
position,  hummed  a  low  and  plaintive  air  of  his 
tribe.  Suddenly  his  ear  caught  the  sound  of 
Approaching  feet,  and  quick  as  thought  the  ar- 
row was  fitted  to  his  bowstring,  but  he  checked 
the  I.  isty  movement,  remembering  that  sentries 
were  posted  at  the  base  of  the  hill,  who  would 
not  have  permitted  any  hostile  step  to  approach 
unchallenged.  As  the  new  comers  drew  near, 
*)e  distinguished  through  the  gloom  the  figures 
^if  a  man  and  a  woman — the  former  short  and 
(square- built,  the  latter  slight  and  graceful. 

"  What  do  the  strangers  seek  1"  inquired 
Toweno ;  for  he  it  was  whom  Mah6ga  had  left 
ill  charge  of  his  camp,  and  who  now  guarded 
the  tent  of  Prairie-bird. 

'  Toweno  is  a  great  warrior  among  the  Wash- 
aslie ;  .his  voice  is  welcome  to  the  ear  of  a 
friend,"  replied,  in  the  Osage  tongue,  the  rough 
voife  of  Besha,  the  horse-dealer.  "  The  Upsa- 
mka  maiden  wishes  to  speak  with  Olitipa,  the 
Great  Medicine  of  the  tent." 
K 


"  This  is  not  a  time  for  maidens  to  visit  or 
to  speak,"  replied  Toweno ;  "  the  feet  of  the 
braves  are  on  the  night-path,  and  many  wives 
who  sleep  now  will  be  widows  ere  the  sun 
is  up." 

"  Besha  knows  it  well,"  answered  the  horse- 
dealer  ;  "  nor  can  he  understand  how  Toweno 
is  in  the  camp  while  Mahcga  and  his  warriors 
are  on  the  bloody-paih." 

"The  Palefaces  are  cunning,"  replied  the 
Osage,  "  and  Mahpga  would  not  leave  the  rich 
skins  of  otter,  beaver,  and  bison,  and  the  Great 
Medicine  of  the  tent,  without  a  guard." 

"  The  Pale-faces  will  not  come  near  the  high- 
camp,"  said  Besha,  casting  a  rapid  glance  over 
the  bales  of  fur  and  cloth.  *'  Have  you  many 
warriors  left  with  you  V 

"  Four  of  the  Washashe,  and  four  times  four 
of  the  Upsaroka,  is  the  band  in  camp  ;*  but 
what  does  the  woman  desire  of  Olitipa  1" 

"  She  is  the  youngest  and  favourite  wife  of 
the  Upsaroka  chief,"  replied  Besha,  lowering  his 
voice,  "  and  she  desires  a  medicine  that  his  love 
for  her  may  never  change ;  her  heart  is  good 
towards  the  Washashe,  and  her  hands  are  not 
empty."  Here  he  whispered  a  few  words  to 
his  companion,  and  the  girl,  Jmidly  extending 
her  hand,  placed  in  that  of  the  Osage  a  small 
roll  of  tobacco. 

The  grim  features  of  the  warrior  relaxed  into 
a  smile,  as  his  fingers  closed  upon  the  scarce 
and  much  coveted  leaf  ;t  and,  without  further 
delay,  he  moved  to  the  entrance  of  the  tent,  and 
waking  Lita,  desired  her  to  arouse  her  mistress 
for  a  conference  with  the  bride  of  the  Upsaroka 
chief 

Although  surprised  at  this  unexpected  sum- 
mons, Prairie-bird  hastened  to  receive  her  vis- 
itor, supposing  that  some  sudden  illness  or  ac- 
cident must  be  the  cause  of  her  coming  at  such 
an  hour.  Her  simple  toilet  was  soon  made ; 
and  fastening  to  her  girdle  the  bag  containing 
the  slender  stock  of  instruments  and  trifles  that 
she  always  carried  with  her,  she  stepped  into 
the  outer  compartment  of  the  tent,  and  desired 
Lita  to  admit  the  stranger. 

The  Crow  girl,  led  by  Besha,  came  forward 
with  apparent  reluctance,  obviously  under  the 
influence  of  the  greatest  terror;  and  Prairie- 
bird  was,  for  the  moment,  annoyed  at  the  ad- 
mission into  her  tent  of  a  man  whom  she  had 
only  seen  once  or  twice  before,  and  whose  ap- 
pearance was  forbidding  in  the  extreme ;  but 
quickly  remembering  that  without  him  it  would 
have  been  impossible  to  communicate  with  her 
visitor,  she  desired  Lita  to  place  three  mats ; 
and  seating  herself  upon  one,  kindly  took  the 
Crow  girl  by  thfl  hand,  drawing  her  gently  to 
that  nearest  to  herself;  then  motioning  to  Be- 


*  The  varioui  melhodi  of  counting  adopted  liy  the 
western  trilies  are  curious  in  the  extreme ;  some  reclcon 
chiefly  by  fives,  and  among  these  an  expression  equiva- 
lent to  "  hands  and  feet"  signiflos  "  twenty ;"  in  one  lan- 
guage the  number  eight  is  expressed  by  a  word  meaning 
six  with  two;  in  another,  by  u  word  signifying  ten  ivith- 
oiit  two:  In  fact,  some  very  Interesting  iilustrntlons  oi 
tlieir  language  and  mode*  of  thought  might  be  drawn 
from  an  accurate  investigation  of  iheir  numerals,  but  they 
would  be  entirely  out  of  place  in  a  work  of  fiction. 

t  Tobiicco  is  extremely  scarce,  and  highly  valued  among 
the  western  tribes ;  at  the  close  of  the  last  century,  it  was 
probably  unlcnown  among  the  Crows,  so  that  we  must 
suppoi-o  tliat  the  horse-dealer  produced  this  present  from 
bit  oWn  Mores,  and  for  purposes  best  koown  to  himself-. 


I 


146 


THE  PkAIRlE-^IRD. 


eha  to  occupy  the  third,  she  requested  him,  in 
the  Delaware  tongue,  to  explain  the  object  of 
this  nightly  visit. 

"The  tale  of  the  Upsaroka  maid  is  secret." 
he  replied ;  "  it  is  only  for  the  cars  of  Olitipa." 

At  a  signal  from  her  mistress,  Lita,  throwing 
a  blanket  over  her  shoulder,  stepped  into  the 
open  air,  and  leaned  against  the  breastwork  not 
far  from  the  post  of  Toweno. 

"  Does  the  '  Bending-willow'  wish  all  to  be 
toldl"  inquired  Besha  of  his  companion,  in  a 
whisper. 

Bending-willow,  who  had  not  yet  dared  to  lid 
her  eyes  from  the  ground,  now  timidly  raised 
them ;  and  encountering  the  kind  and  encour- 
aging glance  of  Prairie-bird,  answered,  "  Let  all 
be  told."  , 

Having  received  this  permission,  the  one- 
eyed  horse-dealer  proceeded  to  relate,  with 
more  feeling  than  could  have  been  expected 
from  his  harsh  and  uncouth  appearance,  the 
story  of  his  fair  companion.  She  was  thedaugli- 
ter  of  the  principal  brave  in  the  nation  ;  both  he 
and  his  only  son  had  fallen  lately  in  a  bloody 
engagement  with  the  Blackfeet.  The  father 
had,  with  his  dying  breath,  bequeathed  his  sur- 
viving child  to  the  protection  of  his  chief,  and 
the  latter  had  fulfilled  the  trust  by  giving  her  in 
marriage  to  his  eldest  son,  a  gallant  youth,  who, 
although  not  yet  twenty-live  years  of  age,  had 
already  two  wives  in  his  lodge,  and  had  taken 
many  scalps  from  the  Black-feet,  against  whom 
he  was  now  absent  on  an  expedition  undertaken 
to  avenge  the  slain  relations  of  his  newly  es- 
poused bride. 

Bending-willow,  who  had  not  yet  seen  eigh- 
teen summers,  was  passionately  fond  of  her 
young  lord,  who  now  returned  her  affection 
with  an  ardour  equal  to  her  own  ;  this  had 
moved  the  spite  and  jealousy  of  his  two  former 
wives,  who  took  no  pains  to  conceal  their  ha- 
tred of  her ;  and  although  they  dared  not  strike 
or  ill-treat  her  as  long  as  she  remained  the  fa- 
vourite, they  endeavoured  Ny  every  means  in 
their  power  to  vex  and  annoy  her,  and  to  bring 
her,  by  degrees,  under  the  suspicion  and  dis- 
trust of  their  husband. 

It  was  to  obtain  from  Prairie-bird  a  medicine 
by  which  she  might  secure  his  continued  affec- 
tion, that  Bending-willow  had  made  this  visit ; 
and  she  had  come  stealthily  Ly  night,  in  hopes 
of  escaping  thereby  the  observation  of  her 
watchful  colleagues. 

During  the  horse-dealer's  recital.  Prairie-bird 
glanced  mure  than  once  at  the  young  woman's 
countenance,  of  which  she  was  enabled  by  the 
red  light  of  the  wormwood  torch  that  burnt 
near  the  centre  of  the  tent,  to  distinguish  the 
features  and  expression ;  both  were  remarkably 
pleasing  and  attractive,  while  the  hmg  black 
hair  falling  over  her  shoulders  in  two  plaits,  in- 
terwoven with  beads  of  various  colours,  was 
set  off  by  the  delicate  hue  of  the  fawn-skin 
dress,  which  displayed  to  advantage  the  sym- 
metry of  her  light  and  graceful  figure.  Prairie- 
bird  took  her  hand  in  silence,  and  the  Crow 
girl  fixed  Idt  eyes  with  guileless  and  admiring 
wonder  upi)n  the  surpassing  loveliness  of  the 
'•  great  medicine  of  the  tent,"  which  struck  her 
the  more  forcibly,  as  she  had  come  in  the  ex- 
pectation of  seeing  a  person  decked  out  and  or- 
namented after  the  fantastic  fashion  adopted 


among  the  Indian  tribes  by  those  who  pretend 
to  supernatural  powers. 

After  a  brief  silence.  Prairie-bird,  addressing 
her  visitor  through  the  interpreter,  said,  "When 
the  wives  of  the  young  chief  scold  and  r peak 
bad  words  to  Bending-willow,  what  does  she 
reply  1" 

"  She  gives  them  bad  words  again,  sharper 
and  harder  than  their  own,"  answered  the  brida 
hastily. 

Prairie-bird  shook  her  head  and  continued, 
"  Has  Bending-willow  watched  their  faces  when 
they  scold  and  heap  angry  words  upon  her? 
How  do  they  look  then  1" 

"They  look  ugly  and  spiteful  as  spotted 
snakes !" 

"  Bending-willow  has  come  for  a  medicine  to 
make  the  love  of  her  husband  endure  fresh  and 
green  as  tlie  valleys  watered  by  the  Nebraska ! 
Does  she  think  he  would  love  her  if,  when  lie 
returns  to  his  lodge,  he  hears  sharp,  angry  tones 
in  her  voice,  and  sees  spiteful  looks  in  her  coun- 
tenance 1  The  Great  Spirit  has  made  her  face 
and  voice  sweet  as  the  breath  of  the  morning ; 
if  she  makes  them  ugly  and  harsh,  the  medi- 
cine of  Olitipa  cannot  preserve  her  husband's 
love." 

The  Crow  bride  cast  down  her  eyes,  evident- 
ly confused  and  puzzled  by  this  address.  At 
length  she  inquired,  in  a  subdued  tone,  "  What, 
then,  is  the  counsel  of  Olitipa  ^  What  is  Bend- 
ing-willow to  do  when  these  sharp  tongues  scold 
and  rail  at  her!" 

Pr.'!.ie-bird  opened  the  volume  that  lay  be- 
side her,  and  answered,  "  The  words  of  the 
Great  Spirit  are,  '  A  soft  answer  turneth  away 
anger!'  When  the  tongues  of  the  women  are 
bitter  against  Bending-willow,  let  her  give  gen- 
tle words  in  reply ;  they  will  be  ashamed,  and 
will  soon  be  sdent." 

•'  But,"  said  the  quick-tempered  bride,  "  the 
angry  spirit  gets  into  the  heart  of  Bending-wil- 
low :  when  fire  is  in  the  breast,  cool  water  flows 
not  from  the  tongue !" 

"  Olitipa  will  give  a  medicine  to  her  sister," 
replied  our  heroine ;  and  opening  a  case  that 
stood  near  her,  she  drew  thence  a  small  hand- 
mirror.  Presenting  this  to  her  visitor,  she  add- 
ed, "  When  Bending-willow  finds  the  angry 
spirit  in  her  heart,  and  bitter  words  ready  on 
her  tongue,  let  her  look  at  her  face  in  this  med- 
icine-glass, and  say  to  herself,  '  Are  these  the 
soft  eyes  that  the  chief  loves  to  look  upon  V  " 

The  bride  took  the  glass,  and  contemplated 
her  features  therein,  apparently  not  without 
satisfaction.  But  their  expression  was  troubled, 
for  she  was  frightened  at  the  words  which 
Prairie-bird  had  told  her  were  those  of  the 
Great  Spirit,  and  her  eyes  wandered  from  the 
book  to  the  maiden,  as  if  she  would  willingly 
learn  more  of  her  mysterious  communion  with 
the  powers  above. 

At  this  crisis  the  wild  war-cry  of  the  Crows 
rang  through  the  tent ;  several  shots  followed 
each  other  in  rapid  succession,  mingled  with 
the  whistling  of  arrows,  and  the  clash  of  blows, 
while  loud  above  the  din  of  the  conflict  rose  the 
voice  of  Toweno,  urging  and  encouraging  his 
men. 

Besha  started  to  his  feet,  and  rushed  from 
the  tent  to  learn  whence  came  this  sudden  and 
unexpected  attack,  and  Lita  hastened  to  the 


le  who  pretend 

in),  addressing 
r,  said,  "When 
!ol(l  and  rpeak 
A'Imt  does  she 

again,  sharper 
vered  the  bride 

and  continued, 
leir  faces  when 
rds  upon  her? 

'ul   as   spotted 

r  a  medicine  to 
idure  Tresh  and 
the  Nebraska ! 
ler  if,  when  lie 
rp,  angry  tones 
•ks  in  her  coun- 

made  her  face 
f  the  iijorning ; 
irsh,  the  medi- 

her  husband's 

r  eyes,  evident- 
s  address.  At 
d  tone,  "What, 
What  is  Bend- 
'P  tongues  scold 

Tie  that  lay  be- 
!  words  of  the 
3r  turneth  away 
the  women  are 
et  her  give  gen- 
e  ashamed,  and 

ired  bride,  "  the 
of  Bending-wil- 
cool  water  flows 

s  to  tier  sister," 
ing  a  case  that 
;e  a  small  hand- 
visitor,  she  add- 
inds  the  angry 
words  ready  on 
ice  in  this  med- 
'  Are  these  the 
look  uponV" 
id  contemplated 
ly  not  without 
m  was  troubled, 
e  words  which 
e  those  of  the 
idered  from  the 
would  willingly 
lommunion  with 

ry  of  the  Crows 
I  shots  followed 
1,  mingled  with 
!  clash  of  blows, 
conflict  rose  the 
encouraging  his 

nd  rushed  from 
this  sudden  and 
lidstened  to  the 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


147 


side  of  her  mistress,  as  if  resolved  to  share  her 
fate,  whaiever  that  might  be. 

Louiler  and  nearer  came  the  mingled  cries 
and  yells  of  battle,  and  a  stray  rifle-ball  pierced 
the  canvass  of  the  tent,  leavmg  a  rent  in  it 
close  to  the  head  of  Prairie-bird.  She  neither 
stirred  nor  spoke ;  and  as  the  wailing  and  ter- 
ritifd  liending-willow,  the  daughter  and  the 
bride  of  warriors  inured  to  scenes  of  blood, 
looked  (IP  the  pale,  calm  cheek  of  the  Christian 
maiden,  whose  hand  still  rested  on  the  mysteri- 
ous volume,  she  felt  as  if  in  the  presence  uf  a 
superior  being,  an'*  <^rept  closer  to  her  side  for 
protection  and  seciirily. 

But  we  must  leave  the  tent  and  its  inmates, 
and  turn  to  the  scene  of  strife  without.  The 
darkness  of  night  was  giving  place  to  the  gray 
hue  of  dawn,  and  a  faint  streak  uf  light  was  al- 
ready discernible  in  the  eastern  horizon,  ere 
Reginald's  party,  guided  by  Wingenund,  was 
able  to  reach  the  base  of  the  hill  on  which  the 
Osages  were  posted.  His  intention  had  been 
to  arrive  there  several  hours  sooner ;  but  he  had 
been  prevented  by  various  obstacles,  such  as 
might  be  expected  to  occur  on  a  night-march 
through  so  rugged  and  difficult  a  country,  and 
also  by  the  necessity  of  making  a  considerable 
circuit  to  avoid  being  seen  by  the  Crows  en- 
cpnajied,  as  was  before  mentioned,  on  a  hill  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  valley. 

Reginald  had  no  means  of  ascertaining  the 
force  that  might  be  led  to  guard  the  camp  and 
the  tent,  and  it  appeared  rash  in  the  extreme  to 
attempt  by  daylighi  the  storming,  with  only  ten 
men,  a  position  se  fortifled  by  nature,  and  de- 
fended by  warriors  familiar  with  its  local  ad- 
vantages. But  bis  impef'  ''■is  ardour  had  com- 
municated itself  to  ai!  >  >  'y,  and  it  was 
unanimously  agreed  tha  ■  ack  should  be 
made. 

In  the  sketch  before  given  of  the  Osage  camp, 
it  was  stated  that  the  hill  was  steep,  and  of  a 
conical  shape,  sloping  less  abruptly  towards  the 
valley,  while  the  front  that  it  presented  to  the 
prairie  eastward  was  precipitous  and  inaccessi- 
ble. The  attacking  party  had  made  their  ap 
proach  from  this  quarter,  rightly  conjecturing 
that  it  would  be  led  unguarded.  They  suc- 
ceeded in  gaining  the  base  of  the  cliff  unper- 
ceived ;  but  in  spite  of  the  caution  with  which 
they  advanced  towards  the  more  sloping  face 
of  the  hill,  they  were  descried  by  the  enemy's 
outposts,  who  discharged  at  them  a  flight  of  ar- 
row6,'uttoring  at  the  same  time  the  shrill  war- 
cry,  that  had  startled  the  party  within  the  tent. 

There  being  now  light  sutficient  to  enable  the 
combatants  to  distinguish  each  other,  the  rifles 
of  the  white  men  told  with  fatal  effect,  and  sev- 
eral of  the  Crows  fell  at  their  first  fire ;  the  re- 
mainder fetreated,  fighting,  towards  the  breast- 
work above,  whither  Reginald's  party  pursued 
them  with  an  impetuosity  not  to  be  resisted. 
When,  however,  the  Crows  gained  the  piotec- 
tion  uf  the  breastwork,  they  recovered  from 
their  temporary  panic ;  and  animated  by  the 
example  of  Toweno,  and  the  lew  Osages  with 
him,  let  fly  their  arrows  with  precision  and  ef- 
fect. 

The  leader  of  the  Osages,  and  one  of  his 
band,  were  provided  with  rifles,  and  although 
the  attacking  party  availed  themselves  of  the 
occasional  slielter  of  trees  and  bushes  in  their 


I  ascent,  two  of  them  received  severe  bullet- 
wounds  from  the  marksmen  securely  posted 
above.  They  were  not  unnoticed  by  tlie  quick 
eye  of  Baptisie,  who,  having  reloaded  his  long 
nfle,  deliberately  waited  until  the  Osage  beside 
Toweno  showed  the  upper  part  of  his  head 
above  the  breastwork  as  he  aimed  at  Reginald, 
now  within  pistol-shot  of  him.  The  finger  of 
the  savage  was  on  the  trigger,  when  a  ball  from 
the  rifle  of  the  Guide  struck  him  in  the  centre 
of  the  forehead,  and  with  a  convulsive  bound 
he  fell  dead  on  the  spot,  overthrowing  in  h.'s  fall 
Toweno,  whose  rifle  was  thereby  for  the  mo- 
ment rendered  unserviceable. 

"  Forward !  Master  Reginald,"  shouted  the 
Guide  ;  "  Wingenund  is  already  at  the  breast- 
work !" 

Light  as  an  antelope,  and  active  as  a  moun- 
tain cat,  the  Delaware  youth  had  distanced  all 
his  conipanionsMU  the  ascent;  and  regardless 
of  the  (earful  odds  of  numbers  opposed  to  liim, 
was  already  clambering  over  the  stockade,  whea 
an  arrow  pierced  his  arm,  and  a  war-club,  hurl- 
ed with  equal  force  and  precision,  struck  him 
on  the  head,  and  he  ff '.I  backwards  at  the  feet 
of  Regi  nald.  The  1  .tter,  rendered  desperate  by 
the  fall  of  his  Indian  brother,  caught  from  Bap- 
tisie the  huge  axe  that  hu.ig  at  his  belt,  and 
springing  forward  to  the  stockade,  soon  hewed 
himself  a  passage  through  its  wooden  barrier — 
wounded  slightly  by  in  arrow  in  his  thigh, 
grazed  by  another  on  the  cheek,  his  hunting- 
cap  pierced  and  carried  from  his  head,  it  seem- 
ed as  though  his  life  were  charmed  against  the 
missiles  of  the  enemy — and  despite  every  ob- 
stacle, he  stood  at  length  within  the  breastwork, 
followed  by  Baptiste  and  his  brave  companions. 
The  Guide,  whose  cool  and  wary  eye  noted  ev- 
ery movement,  had  reserved  the  fire  of  the  pis- 
tols in  hi.s  belt,  and  twice,  while  his  young  mas- 
ter was  hewing  with  reckless  daring  at  the 
tough  barrier,  had  an  unerring  ball  from  Ihem 
rendered  powerless  an  arm  raised  for  his  de- 
'struction. 

Although  still  superior  in  numbers  in  the  pro- 
portion of  two  to  one,  the  allied  band  ofOsages 
and  Crows  were  so  discouraged  by  the  storm- 
ing of  their  barrier,  that  they  oflered  but  a  fee- 
ble resistance,  each  endeavouring  to  provide  for 
his  own  safety.  Toweno  alone,  aided  by  one 
of  the  bravest  warriors  of  his  band,  determined 
in  this  fatal  crisis  to  execute  the  bloody  orders 
uf  Mahega ;  and  by  a  preconcerted  signal,  aa 
soon  as  Reginald  made  good  his  footing  with- 
in the  breastwork,  they  rushed  into  the  tent  ci 
Prairie-bird. 

Prom  the  beginning  of  the  affray,  the  terri- 
fied Upsaroka  bride  had  never  moved  from. the 
side  of  our  heroine,  on  whose  countenanoe  she 
fixed  her  anxious  eyes,  as  if  expecting  from  hei 
some  display  of  supernatural  power  fur  theit 
common  protection.  Lita  clung  also  to  the  arm 
of  hi>r  mistress ;  and  the  'Christian  maiden, 
trusting  to  that  Word  on  which  her  hand  and 
her  heart  alike  reposed,  awaited  with  patient 
resignation  the  issue  of  a  peril,  of  which  she 
knew  neither  the  nature  nor  the  extent.  That 
the  camp  was  attacked  she  was  well  aware,  by 
■he  shouts  and  cries  of  the  combatants ;  but 
who  the  attacking  party  might  be,  and  whether 
likely  to  fail  or  to  succeed,  she  had  no  means  erf' 
judging. 


I't»S 


iJ 


■II 


148 


THE   PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


Besha  had  in  the  commencement  of  the  af- 
fray shot  several  arrows  from  the  breastwork 
at  the  invaders  ;  but  seeing  them  press  forward 
with  such  determined  reaohition,  he  bethought 
himself  of  the  bride,  for  whose  safety  he  was 
responsible,  and  retired  witl.in  the  tent,  resolv< 
ed,  if  possible,  to  withdraw  her  from  the  scene 
of  confusion  while  there  might  yet  be  time  for 
escape ;  hut  Bending-willow  obstinately  refused 
to  quit  the  side  of  Prairie-bird,  and  he  was  jtill 
urging  his  entreaties  to  that  effect,  when  the 
two  Osages  burst  into  the  tent. 

"Let  the  Medicine-woman  of  the  Bad  Spirit 
lie,"  shouted  Toweno,  as  he  raised  his  toma- 
kawk  to  strike  ;  but  Besha  caught  the  descend- 
ing blow,  and  endeavoured  to  avert  the  murder- 
ous weapon  from  his  hold  Meanwhile  the 
other  Osage  advanced  to  e*  ite  the  fell  pur- 
pose of  his  leader,  when  .ae  devoted  Lita, 
throwing  herself  in  his  way,  clung  to  his  up- 
raised arm  with  the  strength  of  despair.  Slight, 
kowever,  was  the  resistance  which  she  could 
«f}er ;  and  the  savage,  throwing  her  with  vio- 
lence to  the  ground,  again  raised  his  knife  above 
the  head  of  his  unresisting  victim.  Lita  shriek- 
ed aluud,  ana  the  fate  of  Prairie-bird  seemed 
inevitable,  when  a  warlike  figure  burst  into  the 
tent,  and  Reginald  Brandon,  still  wielding  the 
axe  of  Baptiste,  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  group. 
His  fiery  glance  fell  upon  the  savage  about  to 
strike  his  beloved,  and  swifl  as  thought  that 
terrible  weapon  descending,  clove  the  Indian's 
skull. 

By  this  time  Toweno  nad  freed  himself  from 
Besha,  whom  he  had  rendered  almost  helpless 
by  two  severe  wounds  with  his  scalp-knife,  and 
he  now  flew  at  Reginald  with  the  fury  of  a  tiger 
at  bay  ;  but  the  presence  of  Prairie-bird  nerved 
her  lover's  arm  with  threefold  strength,  and 
parrying  the  blow  which  his  opponent  aimed  at 
iiis  throat,  he  passed  his  cutlass  through  the 
body  of  the  Osage,  and  threw  him,  bleeding  and 
mortally  wounded,  several  yards  from  the  tent. 
At  this  moment  a  »l<nut  of  triumph  without, 
raised  by  Baptiste  and  his  companions,  assured 
Reginald  that  the  victory  was  complete,  and 
that  those  of  the  enemy  who  survived  had  fled 
and  lefl  him  in  possession  of  the  camp.  Then 
he  cast  himself  on  his  knees  by  the  side  of  his 
betrothed,  and  as  she  leaned  her  head  upon  his 
shoulder,  a  flood  of  tears  relieved  the  suppress- 
<  d  eraotiona  caused  by  the  fearful  trial  that  she 
had  undergone.  Few  and  broken  were  the 
words  that  passed  between  them,  yet  in  those 
few  words  what  volumes  of  the  heart's  grateful 
and  aflfectionate  language  were  expressed ! 

Th«  entrance  of  Baptiste  recalled  to  the  re- 
cotJpntion  of  Reginald  the  duties  that  still  re- 
mained for  him  to  perform,  while  the  wounds  re- 
ceived by  Besha  in  her  defence,  pleaded  with 
the  maiden  for  such  remedies  as  she  had  with- 
in her  power.  After  briefly  explaining  to  her 
lover  the  circumstances  which  had  brought  the 
horse-dealer  and  his  still  trembling  companion 
to  her  tent,  she  sought  her  stock  of  healing  oint- 
ments and  salves ;  while  Reginald,  although 
slightly  wounded,  went  out  to  arrange  with 
Baptiste  and  Pierre  for  the  defence  of  their 
newly-acqnired  possession,  and  to  ascertain  the 
loss  which  his  party  had  sustained.  This  last 
was  less'than  he  had  feared  it  might  prove ;  and 
ir  was  with  heartfelt  pleasure  that  he  shook  by 


the  band  young  Wingenund,  who  had  recover- 
ed from  the  stunning  effects  of  the  blow  which 
he  had  received  in  his  gallant  attack  upon  the 
breastwork. 

"  Let  my  young  brother  go  into  the  tent,"  said 
Reginald ;  rest  will  do  him  good,  and  the  eyes 
of  Olitipa  will  be  glad  to  see  him." 

As  the  youti;  turned  away,  Baptiste  added, 
"  Let  not  the  man  nor  the  Crow  woman  escape ; 
we  may  want  them  yet." 

Wingenund  replied  by  a  sign  of  intelligence, 
attd  entered  the  compartment  of  the  tent, 
where  he  found  his  sifter  exercising  her  office 
of  charity. 

We  will  now  leave  Reginald  Brandon  and  his 
party  busily  employed  in  repairing  the  breach 
made  in  the  breastwork,  in  examining  and 
strengthening  all  the  defences  of  the  post  (which 
they  found  much  stronger  than  they  had  ex- 
pected), and  in  making  all  the  requisite  prepara- 
tions for  the  attack  wnich  they  anticipated  on 
the  return  of  Mahega  and  his  Crow  allies.  The 
booty,  ammunition,  and  supplies  found  in  the 
camp,  exceeded  their  expectations,  as  in  search- 
ing the  Osage  lodges  they  discovered  all  the 
goods  stolen  by  the  latter  from  the  Delawares. 
The  eyes  of  Baptiste  and  Pierre  brightened  at 
the  sight  of  this  recovered  treasure ;  those  ex- 
perienced hunters  well  knowing  that  the  Osage 
chief,  when  deprived  of  the  means  of  offering 
presents  or  bribes,  would  not  long  retain  the 
friendship  of  his  treacherous  allies. 

We  will  novv  go  back  for  a  few  hours,  and 
see  with  what  sicceas  he  met  in  the  expedition 
which  he  underto.^k  a^.inst  the  camp  of  War- 
Eagle.  So  confidont  did  he  feel  in  its  issue 
that  he  had  prevailed  upon  two-thirds  of  the 
fighting  men  of  the  Crows  to  join  his  party, 
promising  them  abundance  of  scalps  and  plun- 
der, as  well  as  revenge  for  the  losses  which 
they  had  sustained  at  tl  e  hands  of  Reginald's 
band.  Having  already  carefully  noted  all  the 
land-marks  on  the  path  by  which  he  meant  to 
make  his  approach,  he  followed  it  with  instinc- 
tive sagacity,  and  a  few  hours'  rapid  night- 
march  along  the  base  of  the  hills  brought  him 
to  the  opening  of  the  narrow  valley,  at  the  up- 
per extremity  of  which  the  enemy's  camp  was 
posted.  Here  they  slackened  their  speed,  and 
advanced  in  silence  with  noiseless  step,  Mahega 
stealing  onward  in  front,  darting  his  quick  glance 
from  side  to  side,  as  if  he  would  penetrate  the 
gloom,  rendered  yet  deeper  by  the  t^ees  and 
rocks,  beneath  which  they  woand  their  cautious 
way.  It  was  not  long  before  he  was  enabled 
to  distinguish  the  site  of  the  Delaware  camp, 
by  the  ruddy  glare  cast  by  the  watch-fires  on 
the  surrounding  foliage.  The  Osage  stopped 
and  pointed  out  the  welcome  beacon  iv  his  fol- 
lowers— not  a  word  was  spoken^very  wan  lor 
there  knew  the  preconcerted  plan  d  attack, 
and  was  aware  that  a  careless  step  upon  a  dry 
stick  might  discover  and  defeat  it.  Mahega 
carried  a  rifle,  and  the  discharge  of  it  was  to-be 
immediately  followed  by  a  flight  of  arrows  from 
his  party,  after  which  they  were  to  rush  on  the 
surprised  foe,  with  battle-axe  and  tomahawk. 
Onward  moved  the  dusky  band ;  and  it  seemed 
a.  if  fate  had  given  the  enemy  into  their  power. 
Net  a  deef  nor  mountain-cat  was  Martled  from 
its  lair  to  give  warning  of  their  approach  ;  and 
at  length  Mahega  succeeded  in  creeping  to  the 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


W 


had  recoveN 
le  blow  which 
ack  upon  the 

he  tent,"  said 
and  the  eyes 

iptiste  added, 
oinan  escape ; 

intelligence, 
of  the  tent, 
sing  her  oflice 

'andon  and  his 

ig  the  breach 

xamining  and 

he  post  (which 

they  had  ex- 

uisite  prepara- 

anticipated  on 

w  allies.    The 

round  in  the 

as  in  search- 

overed  all  the 

he  Delawares. 

brightened  at 

ire ;  those  ex- 

ihat  the  Osage 

ins  of  offering 

>ng  retain  the 

ies. 

few  hours,  and 
the  expedition 
camp  of  War- 
3l  in  its  issue 
j-thirds  of  the 
join  his  party, 
salps  and  plun- 
3  losses  which 
i  of  Reginald's 
'  noted  all  the 
h  he  meant  to 
it  with  instinc- 
i'  rapid  night- 
Is  brought  him 
lley,  at  the  up- 
ly's  camp  was 
eir  speed,  and 
s  step,  Mahega 
is  quick  glance 
penetrate  the 
the  ti^ees  and 
their  cautious 
ET  was  enabled 
jiaware  camp, 
watch-fires  on 
)sage  stopped 
eon:  to  his  fol- 
-every  wan  lor 
an  of  attack, 
ep  upon  a  dry 
:  it.    Mahega 
•fit  was  to'be 
farrows  fi^om 
o  rush  on  the 
d  tomahawk, 
md  it  seemed 
>  their  power. 
Martled  from 
|)proach ;  and 
eeping  to  the 


bushy  summit  of  a  hillock,  whence,  at  a  distance 
of  leas  than  fifty  yards,  he  commanded  a  view 
of  the  camp  below. 

"  For  once,  have  the  cunning  and  watchful- 
ness of  War-Eagle  failed  him,"  said  the  trium- 
phant Osage  to  himself,  as  he  loosened  the 
thong  of  his  war-club,  and  thrust  forward  the 
barrel  of  his  rifle. 

One  by  one  of  his  followers  crept  forward, 
until  they  lay  in  line  beside  him,  behind  the 
crest  of  the  hillock,  over  which  their  eager  eyes 
looked  down  with  savage  anticipation  upon  the 
Delaware  camp.  The  moon  had  entirely  with- 
drawn her  light,  and  all  the  scene  was  wrapt  in 
impenetrable  gloom,  save  where  the  camp-fires 
cast  a  red  glare  on  the  bark  and  branches  of  the 
surrounding  trees,  and  on  the  figures  which  lay 
around,  enveloped  in  blanket  or  in  bison-robe  ; 
no  sound  disturbed  the  deep  silence  of  the  night, 
except  the  nibbling  bite  of  the  horses  as  they 
cropped  th6  cool  grass  of  the  valley  below  the 
camp.  For  a  minute  Mahega  contemplated, 
with  fierce  doli'jht,  the  helpless  condition  of  his 
hated  tiies,  thou  taking  deliberate  aim  at  a  blan- 
keted form  supported  against  the  tree  nearest 
to  tho  fires,  he  pulled  the  fatal  trigger,  and 
without  waiti.  g  to  see  the  elTect  of  his  shot,  he 
shouted  his  bi  .tie-cry,  and  sprang  forward  with 
his  war-club  itov  ards  the  camp.  Scarcely  had 
the  bullet  left  his  rifle  ere  the  Crows  discharged 
their  arrows,  each  aiming  at  the  figure  that  he 
could  the  most  easily  distinguish;  then  they 
rushed  forward  to  complete  the  work  of  destruc- 
tion with  knife  and  tomahawk. 

Leaping  into  the  camp,  fifty  of  the  savages 
were  already  in  the  full  glare  of  its  fires,  when 
a  shrill  whistle  was  hearii,  and  the  simultaneous 
report  of  a  dozen  rifles  echoed  through  moun- 
tain, forest,  and  valley.  So  near  were  the 
marksmen,  and  so  true  llieir  aim,  that  not  a 
bullet  failed  to  carry  a  death  or  fatal  wound ; 
and  the  surviving  Crows  now  first  ascertained 
that  the  figures  which  they  had  been  piercing 
were  st'ifFed  with  grass,  and  wrapped  in  blan- 
kets or  robes,  so  as  tu  resemble  sleeping  war- 
riors !  Great  was  their  terror  and  dismay ; 
they  knew  neither  the  number  nor  position  of 
their  concealed  foe,  and  the  master-spirit  who 
had  led  them,  and  to  whose  guidance  they 
trusted  for  their  extrication,  w?.s  nowhere  to  be 
seen.  Such  had  been  the  ini^etuous  haste  of 
the  Osage  to  satisfy  his  desire  for  vengeance, 
that  in  his  rapid  descent  upon  the  enemy's  camp 
he  had  caught  his  foot  in  a  tough  and  tangled 
ground-brier,  and  had  fallen  headlong  forwards. 
It  happened  that  the  very  spot  where  he  fell 
was  the  post  of  one  of  the  concealed  Delavares, 
who  grappled  with  him  before  he  could  rise  to 
continue  his  course. 

Though  taken  thus  by  surprise  and  at  disad- 
vantage, the  fierce  Osage  lost  .lot  for  a  moment 
his  courage  or  self  possession  ;  seizing  the  up- 
r.iised  arm  of  his  antagonist,  he  wrenched  the 
knife  from  his  grasp,  and,  swift  as  thought, 
drove  it  inio  the  heart  of  his  foe ;  then  tearing 
ofT  the  scalp,  and  suspending  it  to  his  belt,  he 
looked  upon  the  scene  of  confusion  and  slaugh- 
ter below.  A  glance  sufficed  to  show  him  that 
he  had  fallen  into  the  trap  that  he  had  prepared 
for  others,  and  that  a  continued  cuntc.'st  with 
au  enemy  armed  with  rifles,  and  securely  hid- 
den, must  be  attended  with  great  and  unavail- 


ing loss.  His  own  person  had  not  yet  come' 
within  the  light  of  the  fires,  neither  had  the 
groans  of  the  dying  Delaware  been  heard  amid 
the  yells  of  the  Crow  attack,  and  the  succeed- 
ing report  of  the  guns ;  thus  was  the  Osage 
enabled  to  retire  unobserved  a  score  of  paces 
into  the  wood,  bearing  with  him  the  yet  undis- 
charged rifle  of  the  Delaware  whom  he  had 
slain;  then  be  applied  his  war-whistle*  to  his 
lips,  and  blew  a  loud  and  shrill  recal. 

Glad  were  his  faithful  followers  and  the  ter- 
rified Crows  to  hear  and  obey  the  signal;  yet 
did  they  not  leave  the  scene  without  further 
loss,  for  ere  they  got  beyond  tl  e  circle  around 
which  the  camp-fires  shed  their  uncertain  light, 
brother  volley  was  fired  after  them  by  the  ene- 
my, and  althou^li  no>ie  were  killed  by  this  se- 
cond discharge,  many  were  so  grievously  wound- 
ed that  they  were  witli  difhculty  borne  off  by 
their  companions.  It  was  some  relief  tu  them 
in  their  hasty  retreat  to  find  that  they  were  not 
pursued.  Mahega  placed  himself  in  the  rear ; 
he  even  lingered  many  yards  behind  the  rest, 
crouching  now  and  then  behind  tree  or  bush  in 
hopes  of  being  able  to  slake  his  burning  thirst 
for  revenge;  but  in  vain,  War-Eagle  was  to» 
sagacious  to  pursue  by  night,  in  an  unknown 
and  broken  country,  an  enemy  who,  although 
dismayed  and  panic-struck,  still  out-numbered 
his  hand  in  the  proportion  of  three  to  one. 

"  Bloody-  ha  nd,  the  great  warrior  of  the  Osagea, 
will  not  come  again  soon  to  visit  the  Lenape 
camp,"  said  War-Eagle,  in  answer  to  EtheU 
ston's  congratulations,  as  they  stood  surrounded 
by  their  victorious  handful  of  men  on  the  spot 
whence  they  had  just  driven  the  enemy  with 
so  much  slaughter.  "  Let  Attd  count  the  dead," 
continued  the  chief,  "  and  bring  in  the  wounded^ 
if  any  are  found." 

"  War-Eagle,"  said  the  Missionary,  who  from 
his  concealment  had  been  an  unwilling  specta- 
tor of  the  late  brief,  but  sanguinary  skirmish, 
"  forbear  to  exercise  here  the  cruel  usages  of 
Indian  war ;  let  the  wounded  be  cared  for,  and 
the  dead  be  put  to  rest  in  peace  below  the 
earth." 

"  The  ears  of  War-Eagle  are  open  to  the 
Black  Father's  words,"  replied  the  chief  sternly; 
"  if  any  wounded  are  found,  they  shall  suffer 
no  further  hurt :  but  the  scalps  of  the  dead 
shall  hang  on  the  medicine-pole  of  the  Lenape 
village,  that  the  spirits  of  Tamenund  and  his 
fathers  may  know  that  their  children  have 
taken  vengeance  on  the  fork-tongued  Wash- 
ashe." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a 
cry  uttered  by  Attd,  who  had  found  the  body 
of  th?  unhappy  Delaware  slain  by  Mahega. 
The  whole  party  hastened  to  the  spot,  and 
War-Eagle,  without  speaking  a  word,  pointed 
to  the  reeking  skull  whence  the  fierce  Osage 
had  torn  the  scalp. 

Paul  Miiller,  feeling  that  all  reply  would  be 
ill-limed  and  unavailing,  turned  away,  and  walk- 
ed  towards  the  feeding-place  of  the  hor?"s, 


*  Some  of  the  Indian  wnrrinrs  when  leailinij  a  war- 
party  carry  a  shrill  whistle,  wherewiili  they  direct  tlio 
inovcrnonts  of  their  Ibllowcrs.  These  whistles  vary  as 
to  their  form  and  ornament  according  to  the  tillie  to  which 
the  louder  liulorigs.  Those  wliii'h  llio  ;Vullior  has  seen  in 
most  iVrqiicnt  use  were  made  from  the  bono  of  the  wilU 
turkey':^  leg,  and  were  fancifully  adorned  with  stained 
porcupine-qutlU. 


aiiM 


'1  I 

1i 


fSOf 


THE    PRAIRI  E-BIRD. 


while  the  Delawarcs  scalppd,  and  threw  into 
an  adjacent  hollow,  the  hudiea  o(  the  Crows 
and  (Jsiigt's  who  had  fallen.  01'  the  latter  they 
counted  two,  and  of  the  former  ten,  besides  a 
inueli  greater  niiinhcr  whom  they  knew  to  have 
been  borne  oil'  mortally  wounded. 

As  the  .Missionary  strolled  onwaril,  accompa- 
nied by  Ethelston,  a  low  moan  caught  his  ear, 
and  stooping  down,  he  discerned  an  Indian 
coiled  up  in  a  position  indicative  of  intense  ago- 
ny under  the  branches  of  a  juniper.  They  car- 
ried him  back  to  the  camp-fire,  and  on  examin- 
ing him  by  its  light,  he  proved  to  be  a  young 
Crow  warrior,  shot  througli  the  body,  who  bad 
dragged  himself  with  difficulty  for  some  distance, 
and  hml  then  fallen  exhausted  to  the  ground. 
Doubtless  he  expected  to  be  immediately  scalp- 
ed and  dispatched,  nor  cuuld  he  for  some  time 
be  induced  to  believe  that  those  iMt»  whose 
hands  he  had  fallen  were  indeed  ei.<  juring 
to  alleviate  his  sufferings. 

War-Eagle,  faithful  lu  his  protnis  t^iiUered 
every  assistance  in  bis  power  to  tii<3  worthy 
Missionary  while  thus  employed,  but  it  might 
easily  be  seen  by  the  scornful  curl  of  his  lip  that 
he  looked  upon  this  care  of  an  enemy  wounded 
in  battle  as  an  absurd  and  effeminate  practice. 

Day  broke,  and  the  dispirited  band  of  Crow 
and  Osage  warriors  returned  from  their  fruitl.  s 
expedition,  only  to  find  a  worse  disaster  at 
home.  Great,  indeed,  was  their  dismay,  when 
ttiey  were  met  by  a  siiout  from  their  village, 
who  informed  them  that  a  party  of  white  men 
bad  stormed  the  Osage  camp  by  night,  and  still 
retained  possessi(m  of  it,  having  destroyed  the 
greater  proportion  of  those  left  to  defend  it.  In 
this  description  of  the  attack,  the  height,  the 
strength,  the  daring  and  impetuous  courage  of 
the  young  warrior  who  had  led  it,  were  paint- 
ed in  colours  exaggerated  by  terror ;  yet  the 
Osage  chief  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  the 
hated  rival  who  had  struck  and  disgraced  him,' 
and  who  was  now  master  of  the  fate  uf  her  for 
whose  sake  he  had  toiled,  and  plotted,  and  suf- 
fered so  much. 

Stun^;  to  the  quick  by  these  suggestions  of 
wounded  jealousy  and  pride,  he  groimd  his  teeth 
with  fury  that  would  not  be  repressed,  and  he 
swore  that  before  two  suns  had  risen  and  set, 
either  he  or  his  rival,  or  both,  should  see  the 
light  of  day  no  more.  His  position  was  now 
precarious  in  the  extreme,  all  his  goods  and 
ammunition  having  fallen  into  the  enemy's  hands 
excepting  that  which  he  and  his  few  remaining 
followers  had  about  their  persons.  He  knew 
that  if  he  no  longer  possessed  the  means  of  ma- 
lting presents,  the  Crows  would  abandon,  if  not 
betray  him  at  once,  and  he  resolved  to  strike 
some  sudden  and  decisive  blow  before  that 
thought  should  obtain  possession  of  their  minds. 

This  resolve  imparted  again  to  his  manner  its 
usual  fierce  and  haughty  grandeur,  and,  although 
the  Crows  loved  jhim  not,  they  could  lot  help 
looking  with  a  certain  awe  upon  the  man  who, 
amid  the  confusion  and  panic  of  the  late  disas- 
trous attack  upon  the  Delaware  camp,  had  borne 
away  from  the  victorious  enemy  the  bloody  tro- 
phy which  now  hung  at  his  belt,  and  who,  al- 
though ho  had  lost  by  a  single  blow  his  lodges, 
his  supplies,  and  the  Great  Medicine  of  tlieteni, 
preserved  unsui)dued  the  connnandlng  pride  of 
his  demeanour. 


The  success  of  the  stratagem  which  he  now 
meditated  will  appear  in  due  season  ;  meanwhile 
we  must  return  to  the  camp  of  War-Eagle,  who 
began  his  march  nt  dawn  of  day  with  the  view 
of  rejomini;  Reginald  and  his  band  with  the 
least  possible  delay. 

Although  he  did  not  anticipate  any  attempt 
at  reprisals  on  the  part  of  the  Crows  to  whom 
he  had  just  given  so  severe  a  lesson,  yet  ho  was 
aware  of  Mahega's  having  esca[)ed,  anil  well 
knew  that  ho  would  leave  untried  no  schemes 
for  obtaining  revenge. 

On  this  account  the  Delaware  chief  went  for- 
ward to  the  front,  taking  with  him  several  of  his 
warriors,  whom  he  sent  out  from  time  to  time 
to  examine  the  ground,  and  leaving  Attd  with 
with  Ethelston  and  Paul  Miiller  to  bring  up  the 
rear.  The  latter  could  not  be  prevailed  upon 
to  abandon  the  wounded  Crow,  whom  he  had 
placed  upon  his  own  horse,  which  he  led  by  the 
bridle,  while  Ethelston  supported  the  sufferer 
in  the  saddle. 

Ever  since  the  occasion  when  Reginald  Bran- 
don had  presented  to  Atto  the  bear-claw  collar 
as  a  testimony  to  his  bravery,  the  Delaware  had 
attached  himself  more  and  mure  to  the  white 
men ;  and  although,  with  the  instinctive  saga- 
city of  his  race,  he  foresaw  that  the  best  exer- 
tions of  the  two  now  in  his  company  would  fail 
to  effect  a  cure  of  the  wounded  man,  he  willing- 
ly and  good-humouredly  assisted  their  charita- 
ble ende-tvours. 

In  this  k-'der  they  had  marched  for  some  hours, 
and  the  leaders  of  the  band  having  attained  the 
summit  of  a  ridge,  already  saw  at  no  great  dis- 
tance the  two  remarkable  hills  before  mention- 
ed as  the 'favourite  encampment  of  the  Crows. 
Encouraged  by  the  sight,  they  descended  the 
opposite  slope,  with  increased  speed,  War-Eagle 
being  most  anxious  to  learn  the  success  of  Reg- 
inald's detachment.  The  whole  band  had  pas- 
sed over  the  summit  of  the  ridge  excepting  the 
small  party  who  escorted  the  wounded  Crow, 
when  the  latter  grew  so  faint  from  the  effects  of 
internal  bleeding  that  they  were  no  longer  able 
to  keep  him  in  the  saddle,  and  deposited  him 
gently  on  the  grass.  The  poor  fellow  pointed 
to  his  parched  lips,  and  made  an  imploring  sign 
for  water.  Paul  Miiller  casting  his  eyes  around, 
saw  at  a  small  distance  a  broken  ravine  or  fis- 
sure, in  which  he  hoped  that  some  rain-water 
might  be  found,  and  he  desired  Attd  to  hasten 
thither  with  all  speed. 

The  Delaware  obeyed,  and  had  approached 
within  a  few  paces  of  its  edge,  when  an  arrow 
from  an  unseen  enemy  pierced  him  through  the 
breast,  and  Mah^ga,  leaping  from  his  conceal- 
ment, killed  the  brave  fellow  with  his  club,  and 
attached  another  Lenape  scalp  to  his  belt.  He 
was  followed  by  eight  or  ten  well-armed  Crow 
warriors,  who,  passing  him  while  he  stooped 
over  his  fallen  enemy  hastened  forward  and  sur- 
rounded Paul  Miiller,  Ethelston,  and  the  wound- 
ed man.  Great  was  their  astonishment  at  re 
cognizing  in  the  latter  a  highly-esteemed 
brave  of  their  own  tribe,  and  greater  still  at  ob- 
serving that  the  two  white  men  were  so  busily 
engaged  in  tending  and  eupporting  him  in  his 
sutfetings,  as  not  to  have  noticed  their  approach. 

When  Ethelston  became  aware  of  their  pre- 
sence, his  first  impulse  was  to  lay  his  hand  up- 
on a  piot'ji  in  his  belt,  but  with  a  steady  self- 


THE   I'llAlUIE-BIUD. 


ISl 


I  it'll  he  now 
meiiiiwliile 
Eagle,  who 
til  the  view 
i  with  the 


possession  of  true  courage,  he  siiw  at  n  gliince 
that  he  »li(iul(l,  hy  unnvaiiln^'  r'!alst<iii(;p,  only  j 
cause  thf  certain  death  of  hiiiiseirund  Ills  peace-  | 
able  coiiipaniuii,  so  lie  continued  his  attentions 
tuthe  wounded  man,  and  poured  into  his  mouth 
the  last  lew  drops  of  a  cordial  which  he  had  re- 
served in  a  leathern  flask. 

Fresh  from  the  slaughter  of  the  unfortunate 
Attii,  Mahega  now  came  forward,  and  would 
have  sacriliced  the  unresisting  Missionary  to  his 
blind  fury,  had  not  one  of  the  Crow  warriors 
caught  his  arm,  and  pointed  in  an  attitude  of 
remonstrance  to  his  wounded  comrade. 

The  Osage  perceived  at  once  that  the  time 
was  not  propitious  lor  his  indiscriminate  revenge, 
and  contented  himself  with  explaining  by  signs 
to  his  allies  that  ere  long  the  party  now  out  of 
sight  behind  the  hill,  would  reappear  over  its 
crest  in  search  of  their  missing  companions. 

This  hint  was  not  lost  upon  the  Crows,  who 
forthwith  deprived  Eihelston  of  his  arms,  and, 
tying  him  with  a  leather  thong  to  the  Mission- 
ary, hurried  them  along  in  an  oblique  direction 
towards  an  adjoining  thicket,  while  some  of 
them  relieved  each  other  in  the  care  of  the  dy- 
ing man. 

War-Eagle  wa>i  already  far  advanced  in  his  de- 
scent of  the  hill  on  the  opposite  side,  when  his 
progress  was  arrested  by  shouts  and  cries  from 
the  rear.  On  looking  round  he  perceived  that 
these  proceeded  from  Monsieur  Perrot,  who 
-was  waving  his  arms,  and  with  other  gesticu- 
lations, indicative  of  the  greatest  excitement, 
calling  upon  the  chief  to  return. 

"  Varicle,  Varicle,  come  quick  back !" 

Although  the  latter  had  little  regard  for  the 
character  of  the  French  valet,  he  saw  that 
something  alarming  had  occurred  ;  and  hasten- 
ing to  the  spot,  scaroely  waited  to  hear  his  ex- 
planation that  "  Monsieur  Etelston,  de  Black 
Fader,  and  de  vounded  Corbeau,  were  not  to  be 
seen,"  but  pushed  on  at  once  to  the  top  of  the 
hill,  ovMr  which  he  had  so  lately  passed. 

Casting  his  anxious  eyes  around,  he  looked 
in  vain  for  the  missing  members  of  his  parly ; 
hut  he  saw  at  a  considerable  distance  on  the 
back  trail  the  Missionary's  pony  quietly  crop- 
ping the  prairie-grass.  Having  called  one  of 
his  men  to  his  side  and  given  him  a  few  brief 
instructions,  he  returned  speedily  towards  the 
scene  of  the  late  catastrophe,  and  on  approach- 
ing it,  found  the  scalped  and  plundered  body  of 
Atto,  from  "vhich  the  Crows  had  carried  off  the 
arms,  the  belt,  and  the  bear-claw  collar  given 
to  him  by  Reginald.  Although  deeply  grieved 
at  the  loss  of  the  bravest  of  his  followers,  War- 
Eagle  was  too  much  inured  to  scenes  of  strife 
and  bloodshed  ti<  give  way  to  any  emotion  save 
the  ardent  desire  for  revenge ;  and  he  struck 
off  alone  upon  the  enemy's  trail,  some  of  his 
party  following  him  at  a  distance. 

As  he  approached  the  thicket,  his  attention 
was  caught  hy  a  column  of  smoke  ascending 
from  a  point  near  the  centre  of  it ;  and  he  judg- 
ed that  the  band  must  be  very  strong,  either  in 
their  position  or  in  numbers,  if  they  could  have 
the  audacity  thus  to  light  a  camp  fire  in  defiance, 
as  it  were,  of  his  pursuit,  .'.nfluenced  by  this 
consideration,  he  waited  until  his  whole  party 
had  come  up,  when  l.e  again  moved  forward 
towards  the  wood;  cautiously  watching  every 


hush  ami  shrub,  in  momentary  expectation  of 
seeing  tl,e  enemy  start  from  the  covert. 

These  precautions  seemed,  however,  alto- 
gether unnecessary ;  for  he  reached  unmolested 
the  spot  whence  he  had  seen  the  smoke  ascend, 
and  on  his  arrival  found  that  the  fire  was  con- 
suming the  last  mortal  remains  of  some  human 
being,  whose  bones  were  mingled  with  its  dying 
embers.  This  he  knew  at  once  to  have  been 
the  wounded  Crow  who  had  expired  in  the 
arms  of  his  companions,  and  to  whom  they  had 
paid  in  their  retreat  this  hasty  funeral  rite,  to 
prevent  his  body  from  being  liable  to  any  indig- 
nities in  the  event  of  a  pursuit.  The  quiver 
and  tomahawk  of  the  deceasetl  warrior  were 
suspended  by  a  branch  over  his  funeral  pyre, 
and  War- Eagle  turned  from  the  spot  in  moody, 
silent  meditation.  He  felt  assured  that  the 
retreating  party  were  now  too  far  advanced  for 
him  to  overtake  them,  unless;  he  gave  up  the 
idea  of  joining  Reginald ;  and  he  thought  it  by 
no  means  improbable  that  this  attack  had  been 
devised  fur  the  purpose  of  preventing  that  junc- 
tion so  important  to  the  safety  of  bo)h  parties ; 
wherefore  he  resolved  to  effect  it  without  delay, 
and  afterwards  to  employ  all  possible  means  for 
the  recovery  of  the  prisoners. 

With  this  view  he  returned  upon  the  steps ; 
and  having  seen  the  last  honours  paid  to  the 
remains  of  the  faithful  Atto,  again  proceeded  in 
the  direction  of  the  Crow  camp. 

As  his  little  band  drew  near  upon  the  prairie 
it  was  distinctly  visible  from  both  the  fortified 
hills,  and  some  fifty  or  sixty  horsemen  gallop  ^ 
cut  from  the  higher  of  the  two,  with  the  api 
rent  intention  of  attacking  him ;  but  the  steady 
front  presented  by  the  white  men  and  Dela wares 
deterred  them  from  approaching  too  near  the 
glittering  tubes  levelled  to  receive  them,  and 
they  galloped  and  wheeled  in  rapid  circles  over 
the  prairie,  taking  care,  however,  to  keep  be- 
yond rifle  range.  At  this  juncture  the  cheering 
notes  of  a  bugle  rose  on  the  air ;  and  Reginald, 
who  had  descried  his  friends,  now  came  down 
with  two  men  from  his  little  garrison  to  meet 
them.  The  Crows,  seeing  that  further  opposi- 
tion on  the  open  ground  was  unavailing,  retired 
with  threats  and  yells  to  their  camp ;  and  a  few 
minutes  afterwards  the  parties  under  War- 
Eagle  and  Reginald  were  reunited  within  the 
little  fortress  so  hardly  won  by  the  latter,  who 
now  learnt,  with  unspeakable  regret,  the  cap- 
ture of  Ethelston  and  Paul  Miiller,  and  the  death 
of  the  brave  warrior  who  had  Shared  with  him 
the  perils  of  the  first  skirmish  with  the  Crows. 


CHAPTER  XXXVni. 

The  nezotlation  set  on  font  by  Reginald  for  the  rcl«nse  ot 

liiM  friends. — Besha  t)ecoines  an  important  personage. 
(uui  s  r  mm 

Scarcely  had  War-Eagle  entered  within  the 
breastwork  by  the  side  of  his  friend,  ere  his 
eager  and  indefatigable  spirit  prompted  him  to 
inspect  the  defences  of  their  new  camp,  and  to 
guard  every  approach  open  to  the  attacks  of 
their  dangerous  neighbours.  On  this  service 
Baptiste  willingly  agreed  to  accompany  the 
chief;  and  while  they  were  thus  employed, 
Reginald  undertook  the  painful  task  of  comma- 


'I.  I. 


•1  '  f 


;«(1 


180 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


nicating  to  Prairie-bird  the  intelligence  that  her 
beloved  instructor  was,  with  his  friend  Ethel- 
stun,  a  captive  in  the  hands  of  the  Crows. 

Trials  and  sufTerings  of  her  own  the  maiden 
could  bear  with  fortitude ;  hut  her  feelings  to- 
wards the  missionary  were  those  of  the  fondest 
daughter  towards  a  parent;  and  when  she 
thought  of  the  risk  that  he  incurred  of  ill-usage 
or  death  at  the  hands  of  his  captors,  site  burst 
into  tears,  and  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  Reginald ! 
cannot  he  be  rescued  ere  it  be  too  latel" 

At  the  sound  of  that  voice,  and  the  sight  of 
those  tears,  Reginald's  heart  would  have  prompt- 
ed him  to  rush  headlong  into  the  camp  of  the 
Upsarokas  -,  but  he  felt  that  he  would  thereby 
only  sacrificR  his  own  life  without  effecting  the 
object  in  view;  and,  moreover,  he  was  by  no 
means  certain  whether  Mahogn  and  his  pir*>  lad 
conveyed  their  prisoners  to  the  central  camp. 

The  doubt  and  anxiety  of  his  mind  were 
plainly  visible  on  his  countenance,  when  a  low 
voice  whispered  in  hio  ear,  "  May  Wingenund 
speak  to  Netisi" 

"  Surely,  dear  brother,"  said  Reginald,  laying 
his  hand  kindly  on  the  youth's  shoulder,  "when 
I  remember  that  it  was  Wingenund  who  guided 
me  over  the  prairie  to  his  sister's  lent,  I  were 
worse  than  ungrateful  to  reject  his  counsel 
now !" 

"  That  young  woman,"  he  replied,  pointing 
to  the  captive  bride  seated  in  the  corner  of  the 
tent,  "  is  dear  to  theUpsaroka  chief;  she  is  his 
youngest  wife,  and  his  heart  is  warm  towards 
her.  Let  the  one-eyed  stranger  from  the  un- 
known tribes,  who  speaks  many  tongues,  go 
back  to  the  Crow  camp,  and  tell  the  chief  that 
if  his  priaeners  are  hurt,  his  bride  shall  be  burnt 
alive ;  if  they  are  set  free,  she  shall  return  un- 
hurt to  his  lodge." 

"  It  is  a  brave  device,  dear  Wingenund,  and 
shall  be  executed  without  loss  of  time ;  but  can 
we  trust  the  stranger  1" 

"  Methinks  you  may,"  said  Prairie-bird,  "  for 
ho  received  his  wound  in  defending  me  from 
those  cruel  men." 

"  True,"  replied  Reginald  ;  "  let  my  brother 
speak  to  him  in  the  Delaware  tongue,  and  ex- 
plain the  message  he  is  to  bear." 

"  It  is  well,"  answered  the  youth ;  adding, 
with  an  arch  look,  "  and  let  Netis  not  send  him 
away  with  empty  hands.  There  is  cunning  in 
the  stranger's  eye,  he  knows  that  Mahega  is 
poor;  and  he  will  rather  make  friends  with 
those  who  have  something  to  give." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  Reginald  laughing ;  and  he 
forthwith  desired  one  of  his  men  to  select  from 
a  package  containing  knives,  powder,  tobacco, 
and  cloth,  a  quantity  equal  to  the  usual  Indian 
price  for  a  horse.    Wingenund,  having  waited 
in  silence  the  return  of  the  messenger,  addressed 
the  prisoner  as  follows  : — 
"  Has  the  stranger  a  name  in  his  tribe  V 
"  He  is  called  Besha  in  the  southern  prairies." 
"  Besha   dwells  among   the  Crows.    They 
have  shed  the  blood  of  white  men  and  Dela- 
wares  in  battle ;  his  ecalp  belongs  to  those  who 
have  taken  him." 

The  horse-dealer  bowed  in  silence,  and  the 
youth  continued. 

"  But  the  heart  of  the  white  chief  is  great ; 
he  will  not  talte  Besha's  life,  neither  will  he  bind 
his  limbs.    Besha  is  free  to  go  where  he  likes." 


The  horse-dealer  stared  as  if  he  did  not  quite 
believe  his  ears ;  but  Wingenund,  without  ap- 
pearing to  notice  his  surprise,  proceeded. 

"  That  is  not  all.  Besha  received  a  wound  in 
defending  Olitipa  from  the  Washashe.  The 
white  chief's  hand  is  open ;  it  is  quick  to  re. 
ward  good  deeds,  and  to  punish  bad  untw  ;  tho 
presents  in  that  package,  of  knives  and  cluih, 
tobacco  and  powder,  are  for  Besha  ;  he  may  re- 
turn to  theUpsaroka  camp,  and  his  friends  shall 
not  say  that  he  comes  with  empty  hands." 

The  deep  set  eye  of  the  horse-dealer  gleamed 
with  pleasure,  as  he  fixed  it  on  the  wek-ome 
hale,  and  heard  these  words.  His  first  move- 
ment was  to  rise  from  the  ground,  and  place  the 
right  hands  of  Reginald  and  of  Wingenund  on 
his  heart  in  token  of  gratitude ;  then  turning  to- 
wards the  latter,  he  inquired,  "  Is  there  a  dark 
cloud  over  the  Upsaroka  bride  1  Will  the  white 
chief  kill  her,  or  make  her  a  slave  V 

"  Let  Besha  open  his  ears,"  replied  1,^0  yo;Uli, 
earnestly,  "  and  let  not  the  wind  blow  away  good 
counsel.   Tlic  Washashe  and  the  Upsaroka  have 
taken  captive  two  white  men  from  this  band; 
these  have  killed  no  red  man  ;  they  have  don» 
no  harm.     If  any  hurt  be  done  to  them,  or  tliei 
lives  he  taken,  theUpsaroka  bride  shall  be  burn 
before  the  next  setting  sun  ;  but  if  they  are  sen 
back  free  and  unhurt,  she  shall  return  to  he 
husband  the  same   hour,  and  a  present  font 
times  as  great  as  this  shall  be  given  to  Besha.' 
Having  thus  spoken,  the  youth  placed  the 
package  in  the  horse-dealer's  hands,  and  made 
him  a  sign  to  go,    Before  obeying  this  hint,  the 
latter  whispered  a  few  words  to  Bending-willow, 
in  which  he  comforted  her  with  the  assurance 
that  he  would  labour  incessantly  for  her  release ; 
after  which  he  departed  towards  the  Crow  camp, 
with  a  gait  somewhat  tottering  and  uncertain, 
from  the  joint  effect  of  the  weight  of  his  bur- 
den and  the  wound  that  he  had  so  lately  re- 
ceived. 

We  will  now  leave  Reginald  engaged  in  the 
sad,  yet  dear  employment  of  comforting  his  be- 
trothed, and  striving,  by  a  thousand  suggestions, 
lo  relieve  her  anxiety  respecting  the  fate  of  her 
beloved  instructor,  and  her  lover's  friend.  Nei- 
ther will  we  follow  War-Eagle  and  Baptistc  in 
securing  the  important  post  which  they  had  so 
unexpectedly  won ;  but  we  will  return  to  the 
Crow  camp,  where  Mahega  had  newly  arrived 
with  his  prisoners,  and  where  everything  was 
in  a  state  of  alarm  and  confusion. 

^reat  had  been  the  panic  consequent  on  the 
double  defeat  which  they  had  sustained ;  nor 
had  its  effects  been  entirely  removed  by  the 
successful  blow  last  struck  by  Mahega,  and  the 
capture  of  the  two  white  men.  The  Osage 
chief  had  lost  all  his  warriors,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  four,  his  baggage  and  ammunition  were 
in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  he  well  knew 
that  his  only  remaining  chance  of  retaining  the 
support  of  his  allies,  was  in  vigorously  pursuing 
the  success  wiiich  he  had  so  opportunely  gained. 
The  Crow  chief,  on  the  other  hand,  dishearten- 
ed by  the  loss  and  disgrace  which  had  befallen 
his  tribe,  and  vexed  beyond  measure  at  the  de- 
ter;tion  of  his  son's  favourite  wife,  justly  attribu- 
ted both  these  misfortunes  to  an  alliance  which 
had  brought  no  increase  either  to  his  power  or 
his  wealth. 
Such  was  the  state  of  parties  when  the  coun- 


I 


! 


I 


THE  PRAIRIE. DIRD. 


193 


cil  nf  the  Upsarokas  met  to  decide  upon  the  fate 
of  their  prisoners.  The  debate  being  carried  on 
in  their  own  language,  Mah^ga  was  unable  to 
gather  the  sentiments  of  the  several  speakers, 
and  he  declined  to  sit  in  the  circle,  but  stood 
leaning  against  the  outer  post  of  the  council 
lodge,  his  quick  eye  bent  upon  the  countenance 
of  each  successive  speaker,  as  if  he  would  read 
there  the  purport  of  his  harangue.  One  fierce 
and  hot- headed  warrior  proposed  that  the  pris- 
oners should  be  instantly  put  to  death,  and  a 
suduen  attack  be  made  with  their  whole  force 
on  the  opposite  hill,  which  would  be  easily  re- 
covered, and  an  abundance  of  plunder  acquired. 
An  older  Indian  next  addressed  the  meeting  in 
a  persuasive  tune,  that  suited  well  the  sharp 
and  cunning  expression  of  his  countenance.  He 
argued,  that  the  Crows  had  derived  no  advan- 
tage, but  rather  loss  and  misfortune,  from  their 
alliance  witl\  Mahega,  and  that  it  was  their  in- 
terest to  make  friends  with  the  ne-.vly-arrived 
band,  who  were  more  rich  and  powerful ;  where- 
fore  he  advised  that  the  lives  of  the  prisoners 
should  for  the  present  be  spared. 

The  debate  was  at  its  height,  and  the  assem- 
bly apparently  divided  in  opinion,  when  Besha 
entered  the  council-lodge,  and  sat  down  in  the 
outer  circle  near  to  the  entrance.  All  eyes  were 
turned  to  him,  as  the  report  of  his  capture  had 
already  spread  through  the  village,  and  his 
wasted  appearance,  as  well  as  the  bandages 
over  his  neck  and  arm,  showed  that  he  had 
been  wounded  in  the  late  affray.  After  a  brief 
silence,  the  chief  desired  that  he  would  relate 
what  had  occurred,  a  command  which  the 
horse-dealer  obeyed  without  hesitation. 

Although  not  gilled  with  any  orational  powers, 
he  was  a  shrewd  fellow,  thoroughly  versed  in 
all  the  wiles  of  Indian  diplomacy ;  and  well 
aware,  as  a  resident  guest  among  the  Crows, 
that  his  best  chance  of  a  favourable  hearing  w^ 
to  frame  his  speech  according  to  their  interests, 
which  happened  in  the  present  instance  to  tally 
with  his  own.  In  relating  the  events  which  had 
occurred  in  the  opposite  camp,  he  exaggerated 
the  strength  and  wealth  of  the  enemy,  dwelling 
at  large  upon  the  clemency  shown  to  himself 
and  upon  the  desire  evinced  for  peace ;  stating, 
in  conclusion,  that  he  was  the  bearer  of  a  speci- 
fic message,  or  proposal,  to  the  great  chief.  At 
this  announcement  there  was  a  general  murmur 
of  curiosity,  and  Mahega  bit  his  lip  with  vexa- 
tion at  his  inability  to  understand  what  was 
going  on. 

At  a  signal  from  ihe  chief,  Besha  proceeded 
to  inform  the  council  that  Bending-willow,  the 
bride  of  their  favourite  and  absent  war-leader, 
was  now  a  captive ;  and  he  recounted  faithfully 
the  circumstances  under  which  she  had  visited 
the  white  tent  with  him,  and  the  terrible  threats 
held  out  respecting  her  in  the  event  of  any  in- 
jury being  done  to  the  white  prisoners.  The 
effect  of  this  announcement  was  so  great,  that 
•it  was  visible  even  to  Mahega  ;  nor  was  he  sur- 
prised when  Besha  explained  to  him,  by  order 
of  the  chief,  that  the  council  had  decided  upon 
sparing  the  lives  of  the  white  men,  at  least  un- 
til the  return  of  the  war-leader  and  his  band  of 
braves,  now  absent  on  a  foray  into  the  country 
of  the  Black-feet. 

Agreeably  to  this  decision,  Paul  Miiller  and 
Ethelston  were  confiQed  in  a  lodge  adjoining 


that  of  the  chief,  under  a  Crow  guard,  to  whom 
strict  orders  were  given  to  prevent  their  escape, 
and  also  to  protect  them  against  any  attempt  on 
the  part  of  Mahega  or  his  followers.  Besha 
was  allnwi'd  to  see  them,  and  they  learnt  from 
him  that  their  friends  had  been  completely  suc- 
cessful, and  had  re-«aptured  the  Great  Medicine 
of  the  tent,  as  well  as  ihe  ammunition  and  bag- 
gage. He  further  informed  them,  that  he  would 
do  all  in  his  power  to  effect  their  release ;  add- 
ing a  significant  hint  that  he  should  not  be  un- 
willing to  receive  tangible  proofs  of  their  grati- 
tude. 

The  captives  were,  upon  the  whole,  much 
comforted  by  this  interview ;  and  on  his  de- 
parture, Ethelston  said,  addressing  his  com- 
panion, "  Reverend  father,  we  have  cause  to  bs 
grateful  for  the  intelligence  communicated  to  us 
by  this  man,  inasmuch  as  we  expected  no  lesa 
than  to  be  put  to  an  immediatt',  and  perhaps  a 
cruel  death.  Yet,  methinks,  for  a  messenger 
of  good  tidings,  he  has  the  most  uncomely  and 
villainous  countenance  that  ever  I  beheld." 

"I  will  not  say  that  his  face  recommends 
him,"  said  Paul  Muller,  smiling;  "alheit,  tho 
expression  thereof  may  have  been  altered  for 
the  worse  by  the  loss  of  an  eye.  I  iiuve  seca 
him  more  than  once  before  among  the  tribes 
bordering  upon  the  Mexican  frontier,  and  if  my 
mentiory  serves  me,  he  bore  the  reputation  of 
being  a  crafty  and  designing  knave  in  his  voca- 
tion ;  but  I  never  heard  him  charged  with  cruel- 
ty, or  thirst  of  blood." 

"What,  then,  do  you  think,  are  the  motives 
for  the  friendly  exertions  which  he  professes  to 
make  in  our  behalf!" 

"  We  will  hope  that  they  are  partly  owing  to 
a  grateful  sense  of  the  treatment  he  has  experi- 
enced at  the  hands  of  our  friend  Reginald,  and 
partly  from  the  expectation  of  presents  and 
rewards,  which  the  Osage  is  no  longer  in  a  con- 
dition to  offer.  Meanwhile,  we  must  solace  our- 
selves in  our  captivity  with  the  reflection,  that 
my  beloved  pupil  is  sale  under  the  Qharge  of 
friends,  upon  whose  fidelity  and  devotion  w& 
can  fully  rely." 

Leaving  the  captives  to  comfort  each  other 
with  these  and  other  similar  suggestions,  w& 
will  return  to  Reginald  Brandon,  who  forgot  not, 
even  in  the  enjoyment  of  Prairie-bird's  society, 
to  occupy  himself  constantly  in  devising  plans 
for  their  liberation.  In  these  he  was  warmly 
seconded  by  War-Eagle  and  Baptiste ;  but,  after 
carefully  reconnoitring  the  Crow  camp,  they 
agreed  that  it  was  too  strong  to  be  carried  by 
open  attack  by  their  small  party,  especially  as 
they  had  learnt  from  Besha,  that  the  husband 
of  Bending-willow,  the  son  of  the  Great  Chief, 
had  just  returned  with  his  band,  consisting  of 
fifly  chosen  warriors,  from  a  successful  foray 
into  the  Black-foot  country. 

The  wily  horse  dealer  was  allowed,  in  hia^ 
mi.\ed  capacity  of  interpreter  and  envoy,  to  pass 
from  camp  to  camp ;  and  as  both  parties  wer& 
desirous  of  securing  his  co-operation,  presents 
were  liberally  heaped  upon  him,  and  his  grey 
eye  twinkled  as  he  cast  it  upon  the  increasing 
pile  of  goods  at  the  back  of  his  lodge.  "  There 
will  soon  be  enough  to  exchange  for  a  hundred 
beaver-skins,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  then  Besha 
will  look  for  some  tine  horses,  and  go  towards 
the  east." 


1M 


THE    P  R  A  I  R  1 1:    B  I  R  D. 


Whilo  Itn  waa  thus  congratiilntini;  himscir  on 
lii.i  proMpects  III  t'liiurn  wraith,  ii  tall  tii;iiro  dark- 
t'ncil  ilic  Piilrniifo  o['  his  I<hIj{i;,  aiul  tlir  young 
Avur-clijt'l'  stdod  l\c(or«  linn.  "  While-Hull* 
\roiil(J  s|)Pnk  with  Hcsiia,"  said  tlio  (ornmr  in  a 
liaiiHtily  t()nt%  adjnsiinn  with  dijiiily  tlm  crnuin- 
ooloiircd  rubo  tniin  wliiuh  he  tuuk  hia  desi^^na- 
tion. 

"  Let  the  young  chief  be  seated,"  replied  the 
lirirse-dealer,  making  at  the  same  time  a  signal 
to  one  of  his  lads  to  offfr  ioud  and  a  pipe  to  his 
^iiest. 

White-Bull's  first  impulse  was  to  refuse  this 
liospitality,  but  he  checked  it,  and  having  tasted 
a  morsel,  and  emitted  two  voluminous  puffs  of 
smoke  from  tli>-  pipe,  he  turned  to  the  horse- 
dealer,  and  said  in  a  stern,  deep  tone,  "  Bending- 
wlllow  is  a  prisoner  in  the  white  tent ;  Besha 
took  her  there,  ho  must  bring  her  back,  for  the 
lieurt  (if  White-Bull  is  dark— thure  is  no  light 
or  pleasure  without  her." 

"  The  will  of  the  bride  was  strong,"  he  re- 
plied ;  "  she  would  take  no  counsel  from  Besha  ; 
if  he  did  not  go  with  her,  she  would  co  alone, 
to  consult  ili(<  Medicine  of  the  tent ;  Besha  went 
■with  her  that  none  might  do  her  harm." 

"  The  ears  of  White- Bull  are  not  to  be  tick- 
led by  the  songs  of  birds,"  said  the  young  chief, 
iiercely.  "  Besha  toiili  lier  to  the  white  men's 
camp,  and  he  must  bring  her  back  before  two 
suns  have  set,  or  his  heart  shall  be  cutout  from 
liis  body." 

"  White-Bull  knows  that  there  are  two  white 
prisoners  here,  let  him  give  them  to  Besha,  and 
lie  will  bring  back  Bending-willow  before  the 
sun  is  in  the  we.st." 

"  The  white  prisoners  bel'ing  to  the  war-coun- 
cil," said  the  young  man  sullenly.  "  White-Bull 
fares  not  whether  they  ive  or  die;  but  he 
wants  his  bride,  whom  the  fool  Besha  led  away 
to  a  place  where  she  was  cai.^ht  like  a  heaver 
in  a  trap;  if  he  does  not  bring  ner  back  within 
two  sun-sets,  the  hlndeof  this  ';nife  shall  be  red. 
"White-Bull  has  spoken,  and  his  words  are  not 
■wind  !"  So  saying,  the  violent  youth  passed 
>vith  angry  strides  from  the  horse-dealer's  lodge. 

Besha  now  found  himself  in  an  awkward 
predicament,  in  endeavouring  to  extricate  him- 
self from  which,  his  first  step  was  to  consult 
the  young  chief's  father,  hoping  that  the  latter 
would  give  his  consent  at  once  to  release  the 
prisoners  for  the  recovery  of  the  favourite  bride. 
But  the  old  man  would  not  agree  to  the  propo- 
sal, giving  as  his  reason,  that  the  council  had 
resolved  either  to  take  the  lives  of  the  prison- 
erg,  or  to  make  the  enemy  pay  many  horses  and 
rnuch  goods  for  their  ransom.  "  Besha  has  a 
tongue,"  continued  the  crafty  old  man.  "  He 
can  speak  with  the  white  men  ;  he  can  tell  them 
that  if  the  bride  is  given  up  their  friends  shall 
be  returned,  they  will  believe  him,  and  all  will 
be  well." 

"  Besha,  though  not  particularly  scrupulous 
in  his  morality,  was  startled  at  first  by  this  pro- 
posal of  treacherous  and  deliberate  falsehood 
towards  one  who  had  spared  his  life,  and  had 
given  him  his  liberty,  besides  loading  him  with 


*  It  WHS  lit  one  tliiiti  currently  rutnnurcd  iininng  ilie 
tnipiM-rs  of  the  Rocky  Mnuntnlnx,  that  n  Crow  warrinr  hnd 
fouiiil  and  killed  a  white  bisnn-liull,  the  skin  of  which  he 
wore  us  n  robe.  The  story,  whellier  true  or  false,  is 
adopted  liere,  and  assigned  to  the  husband  of  "  Bending- 
willow." 


I  presents  ;  hut  his  cnnsicience  being  of  an  ex- 
I  tii'iiiely  elastic  ifXture,  he  soon  reciinciled  hini- 
I  self  to  the  idea  by  the  retlcction  that  it  wa»  Ins 
bi-st,  iluot  his  only  chance  of  Having  hi:*  lid'  Iniiii 
the  fury  of  ttm  incicnsed  White-Bull,  lie  rnaile 
no  rf\>\y  to  the  old  chief;  but,  as  he  went  away, 
the  two  rogues  exchanged  u  look  which  satis- 
tied  them  that  they  understood  each  other. 

The  horse  dealer  proceeded  without  delay  to 
the  lodge  where  Paul  Miillcr  and  Eihelston 
were  confined,  into  which  liu  was  admitted  by 
their  guards.  Having  explained  to  the  Mission- 
ary that  he  was  about  to  visit  the  white  men's 
camp  fur  the  purpose  of  liberating  him  and  his 
companion  by  tho  recovery  of  the  captive  bride, 
he  desired  to  be  furnished  with  a  sign  by  which 
they  won. d  be  induced  to  give  her  up  without 
hesitation ;  for  Besha,  in  his  rambles  on  the 
Mexican  frontier,  had  frequently  met  with  the 
Spanish  traders,  and  although  he  could  not  read 
letters  himself,  ho  knew  how  they  were  used  for 
the  interchange  of  communication  at  a  distance. 

Before  giving  any  reply,  Paul  Miiller explain- 
ed tho  state  of  affairs  to  his  companion,  and 
asked  his  counsel. 

"Methinks  we  should  trust  the  fellow,"  said 
Etholftton,  "  for  he  has  hitherto  befriended  us  : 
but  let  us  not  write  anything  that  can  endanger 
the  safety  of  Prairie-bird." 

"  I  agree  with  you,  my  son,"  he  replied,  "  and 
will  write  accordingly." 

So  saying,  he  took  a  small  pocket-book  from 
his  breast,  and  wrote  with  a  pencil  upon  a  leaf 
of  it  the  folUiwing  words  : 

"  Ethelston  and  Paul  Miiller  send  their  affec- 
tionate greeting.  The  bearer  says  that  he  can 
lil)erate  them  if  the  captive  bride  is  restored. 
Reginald  Brandon  will  consult  with  those  about 
him,  and  do  what  he  thinks  best.  Let  the  safety 
of  Prairie-bird,  and  of  those  who  are  now  her 
protectors,  be  the  first  object.  Glad  and  thank- 
ful should  we  be  to  embrace  our  dear  friends 
again ;  but  we  are  well  and  cheerful  here ;  in 
joy  and  in  sorrow,  in  life  and  in  death,  we  are 
in  the  hands  of  One  who  rules  all  for  the  best. 
Farewell." 

Havini;;  received  the  paper,  Besha  lost  no 
time  in  setting  off  to  the  opposite  camp. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

David  Mtiir  and  hia  Daaghter  pay  a  Visit  to  Colonel  Bran- 
don.—The  Merchant  Iwconics  iimbitious.— He  entertains 
I'rijjects  fur  .lessie's  futuru  Welfare,  which  do  nut  coin- 
cide with  that  yuung  Lady's  Wishes. 

Whii-e  the  events  related  in  the  preceding 
chapters  were  passing  in  the  Great  Western 
Wilderness,  the  days  of  early  summer  glided 
smoothly  on  at  Mooshanne,  uninterrupted  by 
any  incident  worthy  of  record.  Aunt  Mary 
continued  her  round  of  busy  occupation  with 
her  usual  indefatigable  activity.  Never  could 
there  occur  in  the  neighbourhood  a  ca.se  of  sick- 
ness or  of  sorrow  to  which  she  did  not  hasten 
to  administer  the  needful  consolation;  and  in 
the  town  of  Marietta  her  henevtilent  exertions 
were  assisted  by  Jessie  Muir,  whose  attendance 
in  her  father's  sioi'e  enabled  her  to  gather  all  the 
current  news  from  the  numerous  customers  nrho 
frequented  it. 

"The  Merchant"  (for  so  David  Muir  was 
designated  by  all  who  did  not  wish  to  affront 


TMi:    PUAIRIK-inUD. 


1&5 


'and 


Mm)  grew  riaily  in  importanri'  and  diKiiiiy. 
Hid  apeculiiiliins  in  irade  had  heen,  Hirihc  rmm 
|i»rt|  sufCL'snl'iil,  and  iwo  or  three  ol'  his  siiifjjPN. 
tioriH  lor  the  improvciiiont  ul  the  town  had  iipcti 
adopted.  A  sharp  aiinck  of  fever  had  subdued 
for  a  season  ihe  domineering  spirit  of  IJanie 
(/'hriNtie,  and  David  (bund  himself  not  only  re- 
spijcted  hy  the  iiei),'hl>fliirs,  but  even  enjoyed  the 
sweet,  thousli  brief  delusion,  that  he  was  master 
in  his  own  house. 

Neither  his  pride  nor  his  increasing  wealth 
interrupted,  however,  hiji  close  attention  to  busi- 
ness ;  and  Colonel  Brandon,  IJndinK  that  the  af- 
fairs entrusted  to  him  were  managed  with  great 
punctuality  and  skill,  treated  him  with  corre- 
sponding confidence. 

On  a  fine  summer's  morning,  about  a  month 
after  Eihebton's  departure  for  the  Far- West, 
the  merchant's  four-wheeled  chaise  stood  before 
his  door,  drawn,  not  by  a  sorry  pony,  but  by  a 
strong  horse,  the  contfltion  and  appearance  of 
which  betokened  the  thriving  circumstances  of 
the  owner.  Jessie  Muir,  wearing  a  very  be- 
coming bonnet,  and  a  shawl  newly  arrived  from 
England,  had  just  cast  a  passing  look  into  the 
oval  mirror  in  the  back  parlour,  and  was  busily 
employed  in  giving  directions  respecting  the 
contents  of  a  parcel  about  to  be  placed  in  the 
seat  of  the  chaise,  while  Henry  Qregson  was 
listening,  with  ill-dissembled  impatience,  to  the 
repealed  cautions  given  to  him  oy  David  ns  to 
his  conduct  during  Ihe  brief  absence  which  he 
meditated. 

"Noo,  Hairy"  ffor  thus  was  the  name  of 
Harry  pronou'ncea  in  David's  north-country 
dialect),  "  ye  maun  be  vera  carefu'  o'  the  store, 
and  see  that  the  lads  attend  weel  to  the  folk  wha 
come  to  buy,  and  that  Jane  slays  aye  amang  the 
caps  an'  shawls  and  printed  cottons,  instead  of 
keekin  out  o'  the  window  at  a  wheen  idle  ne'er- 
do-weels  in  the  street;  and  as  for  Ihe  last  lot  of 
Bohea,  ye  can  truly  say  it's  the  finest  that  ever 
cam'  to  Marietta;  I'm  thinkin'  the  minister's 
wife  will  be  fain  fo  buy  a  pun'  or  twa.  And, 
Hairy,  mind  that  ye  ....  but  thedeil's  in  the 
lad !  What  are  ye  glow'ring  at,  over  my  shoul- 
der, as  if  ye  se'ed  a  wraith,  an'  no  listening  to 
what  I'msayin'r' 

Here  the  merchant  turned  .ound,  and  his  eye 
happening  to  fall  upon  a  parcel  of  fire-irons,  so 
carelessly  placed  on  p  upper  shelf  that  they 
threatened  the  destruction  of  a  pile  of  crockery 
below,  he  ordered  the  shop-boy  to  secure  the 
oflending  tongs,  and,  turning  to  Harry,  con- 
tinued in  a  more  complacent  tone,  "  It's  nae 
wonder,  lad,  that  ye  could  na  tak'  your  een  off 
they  irons;  they  had  like  to  make  nn  awfu' 
smash  amang  the  cups  and  saucers;  I'm  glad 
to  see  that  ye're  so  canny  and  carefu'  o'  the 
goods." 

Harry  bit  his  lips,  and  made  no  reply,  while 
the  merchant,  who  had  already  seen  Jessie  take 
her  seat  in  the  chaise,  was  preparing  to  follow, 
when  he  turned  to  the  young  man,  and  said,  in 
a  low  voice,  "  Ye'll  no  forget  that  the  mistress 
will  need  her  gruel  at  midday  1" 

"  I  will  lake  care  that  it  is  noi  forgotten  ;  and 
I  suppo.se,  sir,  the  glass  of  French  brandy  is  lo 
be  put  into  ill" 

"Glass  o'  French  brandy,  ye  daf^  chiel,"  said 
the  merchant,  forgetting  for  a  monient  the  pru- 
dential whisper;  then  resuming  it,  he  added, 
"  Wha  talks  o'  plasses  o'  French  brandy  1  Ye 
ken,  Iho',  that  the  mistress  has  no  gotten  her 
strength  yet,  and  she  said  she  would  like  just 


four  spoonfu's  o'  brandy  in  the  gruel,  lo  gie't  a 
i.iste  and  keep  llie  cauld  out  o'  her  wame.  Yo 
ken  the  inistresii's  ain  spoon  in  the  tea-cup- 
board r' 

"  Yef,  sir,  I  know  it  well,"  replied  Harry, 
with  demure  gravity,  ndding,  hall  aloud,  as  his 
principal  drove  from  the  door,  "  and  a  precious 
gravy-spoon  it  I..;  before  it  is  four  times  llllcd 
and  emptied  it  will  make  the  largest  wine-glass 
in  the  store  run  over  the  brim,  and  the  old  lady's 
tongue  go  like  a  mill-wheel.  Never  mind,  for 
Jessie's  sake  I'll  brew  Ihe  gruel  as  sliftas  my 
father's  grog,  and  bear  Dame  Christie's  scolds 
without  complaint." 

"He'.s  a  canny,  douche  lad,  yon  Hairy,"  said 
the  merchant  to  his  daughter,  a^  they  jolted 
leisurely  along  the  uneven  but  picturesque  road 
that  led  from  Marietta  to  Mooshanne,  "and 
does  na'  care  to  rin  about  ihe  toon  like  other 
idle  gillies,  but  seems  aye  content  lo  min'  the 
store.  Did  ye  see,  Jessie,  how  he  caught,  wi' 
ne  blink  o'  His  ee,  Ihe  airns  that  were  about  to 
fa'  amongst  my  best  Wedge  wood  1" 

Had  the  merchant  not  been  occupied,  as  he 
put  this  question,  in  guiding  the  wheels  between 
sundry  deep  ruls  anei  holes  in  ihe  road,  he  could 
not  have  failed  to  observe  the  heightened  col.)ur 
that  it  brought  into  Jessie's  countenance;  for 
the  maiden  was  conscious  that,  at  the  moment 
referred  lo,  Harry's  gaze  had  been  fixed,  not 
upon  the  fire-irons  or  the  Wedgewood,  but  upon 
her  own  comely  self. 

It  is  one  of  the  peculiar  properties  and  tri- 
umphs of  love  that,  not  content  with  securing  its 
own  position  in  the  human  heart,  it  delights  in 
unsettling  and  metamorphosing  Ihe  tenants  by 
which  it  was  j  reviously  occupied.  Under  its 
wayward  sway  boldness  becomes  timidity  and 
fierceness  is  transformed  into  gentleness,  while 
bashfuliiiss  is  rendered  bold,  and  simplicity  has 
recourse  ic  the  devices  of  cunning ! 

Thus  Jessie  Muir,  who  was  naturally  of  a 
frank,  open  disposition,  but  who  had  a  secret 
presentiment  that  her  father  would  reject  the 
suit  of  her  lover  if  it  were  now  to  be  declared, 
acquiesced  demurely  in  his  observation  respect- 
ing the  attention  shown  by  Harrj  Gregson  to 
the  business  of  the  store. 

"Weel,  a-weel,"  continued  the  merchant, 
"  he's  a  gude  lad,  and  no  ill-faured  neither;  I'm 
thinkin',  Jessie,  that  he  and  Jean  will,  maybe, 
fancy  each  other ;  they're  aye  thegiiher  i'  the 
store,  an'  the  bit  lassie  might  gne  further  and 
fare  waur  than  by  lakin'  up  wi'  Hairy." 

This  speech  was  too  much  for  Jessie's  equa- 
nimity; ihe  coolness  with  whieh  her  father 
spoke  of  his  servant-maid  "  takln'  up"  with  her 
lover  stung  her  lo  the  quick,  and  sne  replied, 
tartly,  "Father,  I  wish  you  would  mind  your 
driving  among  these  holes  and  slumps,  insiead 
of  talking  about  Jean  and  her  idle  nonsense. 
Indeed,  father,  that  last  jolt  nearly  threw  me  out 
of  Ihe  chaise." 

"  Weel,  Jessie,  ye  need  na  mak'  such  a  pother 
■ihout  a  stump  mairor  less  atween  Marietta  and 
Mooshanne;  and  though  I'll  no  say  that  my 
drivin'  is  like  that  of  Jehu,  the  son  of  Jehosha- 
phat,  ye  need  na  fear  that  I'll  coup  Ihe  braw 
new  chaise  for  a'  that." 

Jessie  was  well  pleased  to  have  turned  her 
father's  thoughts  into  ai.o'her  channel,  and  be- 
insr  a  little  ashamed  oMhe  momentary  irrimtion 
to  which  she  had  given  way,  she  now  exerted 
herself  to  please  and  amuse  him,  in  which  she 
succeeded  so  well  that  they  reached  Mooshanne 


150 


THK    PR  AIR  IB.  BIRD. 


in  cheerful  mood,  and  with  whcelsi  uninjured  by 
-  huie  ur  btuinp. 

Culiinul  Brandon,  teeing  the  merchant  drive 
un  to  the  duur  just  as  he,  with  l.ucy  und  Aunt 
Mary,  were  about  to  sit  down  to  dinner,  went 
hiuiaelf  10  the  door,  and,  with  tlie  franlc  hospital- 
ity ol'  his  nature,  invited  him  and  his  daughter 
to  s/iare  their  family  meal.  Thisinvitation  was 
no  small  gratilication  to  the  pride  of  David  Muir, 
who  had  un  ruriiiur  visits  to  Moo.thanne  regaled 
himself  with  Monsieur  Ferrot  in  the  pantry. 
The  boxen  and  parcels  having  been  safely  de- 
posited, and  the  chaise  sent  round  to  the  stable. 
Lucy  aided  Jessie  to  uncloak  and  unbonnet,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  the  mirty,  thus  increased,  found 
themselves  assembleu  at  the  Colonel's  table. 

"  My  worthy  friend,"  said  the  latter,  address- 
ing his  guest,  "  you  .seem  to  have  brought  an  un- 
usual variety  ol  packages  to-day ;  I  suppose  the 
greater  partof  tliem  are  for  Lucy's  benelit  rath- 
er th.m  lor  mine  I" 

"  Maybe  Jennie  has  brought  a  few  things  fresh 
frae  Philadelphy  fur  Miss  Lucy  to  look  at,"  re- 
plied David ;  "  but  the  inai.st  part  o'  what  I  hac 
wi'  me  the  day,  came  late  Vestrecii,  by  Hob 
Mitchell's  battuau  from  tjt.  Louis,  There's  a 
wheen  letters  and  parcels  frae  Messieurs  Steincr 
and  Iloche,  which  will,  iiau  doubt,  explain  the 
settlement  o'  the  matter  anent  your  shares  in  the 
I'ur  trade." 

"Are  there  not  any  other  letters  from  Saint 
Louis  1"  inquired  Lucy,  colouring  slightly. 

"  There's  nane,  my  bonny  young  leddy,"  re- 
plied David,  "excepiing  twa,  anc  frae  auld  Mil- 
ler, to  acknowledge  the  receipt  u'  the  last  ten 
barrels  o'  saut  pork  that  I  sent  him,  and  anither 
frae  Reuben  Stiggs,  wha  keeps  the  great  outfit- 
ting store  for  trappers,  to  order  an  early  freight 
o'  blankets,  Bibles,  religious  tracts,  scalp-knives, 
and  whisky,  for  the  Indian  trade." 

In  spite  of  her  disappointment,  Lucy  could  not 
forbear  smiling  at  the  gravity  with  which  the 
merchant  enumerated  this  strange  mixture  of 
goods  ordered  for  a  warehouse,  to  which  the 
missionary  and  the  trapper  both  resorted  for 
iheir  respective  supplies. 

"The  dinner  passed  agreeably  enough;  and 
Jessie  Muir  having  soon  recovered  from  the  dif- 
fident shyness  by  which  she  had  been  at  Arst  over- 
come, amused  Lucy  and  Aunt  Mary  by  her  qui- 
et but  siirewd  observations  en  person*  and  things 
in  Marietta,  while  the  merchant  enjoyed,  with 
evident  satisfaction,  several  glasses  from  a  cer- 
tain bottle  of  madeira,  which  he  knew  to  have 
been  for  some  years  deposited  in  his  own  ware- 
house. 

As  soon  as  dinner  was  over,  the  ladies  retired 
to  Lucy's  boudoir,  where  she  examined  the  con- 
tents of  the  packages  which  Jessie  had  brought 
for  her  inspection,  while  Colonel  Brandon  look- 
ed over  the  letters  and  papers  from  St,  Louis. 
These  proved  to  be  of  considerable  importance, 
as  they  announced  that  all  the  points  in  dispute 
with  the  other  fur  company  had  been  satisfacto- 
rily arraiged,  and  that  his  own  shares,  as  well 
as  those  in  which  Ethelsion's  property  was  chief- 
ly invested,  had  risen  greatly  in  value.  During 
the  perusal  of  this  correspondence  the  Colonel 
spoke  from  time  to  time  familiarly  and  unre- 
servedly with  his  companion.  He  had  learned 
from  Lucy  the  attachment  that  existed  between 
Henry  Gregson  and  the  merchant's  daughter, 
and  had  formed  an  internal  resolution  to  contrib- 
ute to  its  successful  issue  by  advancing  to  the 
young  man' a  sum  sufficient  to  enable  him  either 


to  enter  Into  partnership  with  tha  merchant,  or 
to  commence  business  on  his  own  account;  but 
it  was  not  his  intentimi  to  develupe  this  scheme 
until  he  had  spoken  with  the  elder  (iregson, 
wherefore  he  contented  himself  for  the  present 
with  sounding  the  merchant  in  vague  and  gen- 
eral terms  re.spectlng  the  disposal  of  his  ilaugli- 
ter's  hund. 

"My  good  friend,"  said  the  Colonel,  "now 
that  we  have  despatched  our  business,  it  occurs 
to  me  that  1  ought  to  rcmln<l  you  of  a  circum- 
stance which  may  not  yet  have  entered  your 
thoughts,  namely,  that  your  daughter  Jessie  is 
grown  up  to  be  a  very  pretty,  sensible,  and  dis- 
creet young  woman,  and  that  having  no  son  of 
your  own,  you  ought  to  seek  for  her  a  worthy 
husband,  who  might  hereafter  aid  her  in  com- 
forting the  declining  years  of  Dame  Christie  and 
yourself." 

During  this  address  the  merchant  fidgeted  on 
his  chair,  and  betrayed  other  evident  symptoms 
of  uneasiness ;  but  he  made  no  reply,  and  tlio 
Colonel  continued:  "1  think  1  know  ot  u young 
man  who  has  long  entertained  an  attachment  fur 
her;  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  Miss  Jessie 
would  be  more  likely  to  smile  than  to  frown 
upon  his  suit.  Feeling  myself  not  a  little  inter- 
ested in  his  future  prospects,  I  should,  if  Mrs. 
Muir  and  yourself  approve  the  match,  willingly 
contribute,  as  far  as  ties  in  my  power,  to  their 
comfortable  settlement." 

"  Really,  Colonel  Brandon,  ye're  vera  kind,  I 
can  no'  fin'  words  to  thank  ye,"  stammered  Da- 
vid, who  seemed  to  have  lost  his  self-possessiun ; 
und  before  he  could  recover  it  so  far  us  to  make 
any  distinct  reply,  Lucy  came  into  the  room; 
and  taking  the  Colonel's  arm,  looked  up  afl'ec- 
tionately  into  his  lace,  saying,  "  Dear  father,  yuu 
have  given  enough  time  now  to  business;  coint^ 
into  my  room  and  hear  one  of  Jessie's  Scotch 
songs.  I  have  just  been  listening  to  one  whicii 
was  written,  as  she  telb  me,  by  Robert  Burns; 
it  is  so  simple  and  so  beautiful,  she  has  promised 
to  sing  it  over  again  for  you." 

The  Colonel  smiled,  and  followed  his  daugh- 
ter, saying  to  the  merchant  as  they  left  the  room, 
II  \Ye  will  speak  further  on  that  subject  the  next 
time  that  we  meet." 

As  soon  as  the  littla  parly  was  assembled  in 
the  boudoir,  Colonel  Brandon  entreated  Jessie 
Muir  to  fulfil  her  promise  of  singing  again  the 
song  which  had  given  so  much  pleasure  to  his 
daughter.  Blushing  slightly,  Jessie  complied, 
and  sung,  in  a  voice  of  much  natural  sweetness 
and  without  accompaniment: 

"  Oh  !  wert  thnu  in  tho  cauld,  enuld  bltit. 

On  yonder  loa,  on  jronder  lea ; 
My  plsidie  to  tliir  angry  airl,* 

I'll  ahelter  thee,  I'd  ahi'ltcr  thee. 
Or  did  niisfartunfl'a  bitter  atorma 

Aruiind  thee  blaw,  around  the  bla'v ; 
Thy  bitUf  ahould  be  my  boaom, 

"To  ahare  it  a',  to  ahare  it  a'. 
"  Or  were  I  in  the  wildcat  woate, 

San  blark  an'  bare,  aae  black  an'  bare ; 
The  deaert  were  a  paradiie, 

If  thuu  wert  there,  if  thou  wert  there  j 
Or  were  I  monarch  of  the  globe, 

Wi'  thee  to  reign,  wi'  theo  to  reign  ; 
The  brightest  jewel  in  my  crown 

Should  be  my  queen,  ahuuld  be  my  queen." 

The  Colonel  having  bestowed  not  unde.'<erved 
praise  upon  the  taste  and  feeling  with  which  Jes- 
sie had  sung  her  simple  melody,  added,  "  Yet  I 
do  not  remember  these  words  among  the  songs 


I 


*  "  Angry  airt,"  the  quarter  whence  the  angry  wind  was 
blowing  t'Sheltsi 


i  ' 


;  merchant,  or 
J  accuunt;  but 
l>e  IhU  scheme 
filler  GreuKon, 
At  ihe  present 
loguo  and  gen- 
^  oj  his  fiaugh- 

folonei,  "now 
ncN-i,  it  occiiiH 
uf  11  circum- 
entered  yuur 
j;hier  Jessie  i, 
Jsible,  and  dis, 
ling  no  »on  of 
I  her  a  worlhv 
Id  her  in  coni- 
f  e  Christie  and 

int  fidgeted  on 

tent  symptoms 

reply^and  the 

|ow  ot  It  young 

attachment  for 

,  Miss  Jessie 

than  to  I'rown 

)t  a  lilile  inter- 

iliould,  if  Mrs. 

atch,  willingly 

lower,  to  their 

re  vera  kind,  I 
tiiinmered  Da- 
el  1- (possession ; 
far  as  to  make 
nio  iho  room; 
oked  up  afl'ec- 
ear  father,  you 
lusiness;  couio 
Jessie's  Scotch 
g  to  one  which 
Uobcrt  Burns; 
le  has  promised 

ved  his  daugh- 
Y  left  the  room, 
ubject  the  next 

3  assembled  in 
itreaied  Jessie 
;ing  again  the 
pleasure  to  his 
ssie  complied, 
iral  sweetness 

Id  blitt, 

e. 
bl8-»; 


i'  bare ; 
t  there  ; 
Biyn; 
mjr  queen." 

ot  undeserved 
ilh  which  Jes- 
idded,  "  Vet  I 
)ng  the  songs: 

'  anirrv  wind  was 
t  Shelter 


THE   PKAIRIK-DIRD. 


1S7 


of  the  Ayrshire  hard.  Lury,  you  have  often 
read  to  me  Irom  the  volume  ol  his  poems  which 
c«me  from  Kngliiml;  do  you  recollect  having 
seen  lhi«  song  among  them  1" 

"  luileed  I  do  not,"  replied  Lucy ;  "  yet  it  is  so 
full  ol  his  |)eculiar  force  of  expression  and  leel- 
iuff,  that  it  is  dillicult  to  believe  it  to  have  been 
written  by  any  one  else." 

"  I  have  been  told,"  said  Jessie,  "  that  this  sonjf 
was  found  among  his  patiers  alter  his  death. 
This  may  he  the  reason  why  you  have  not  seen 
it  in  your  volume," 

The  conversation  having  once  turned  upon  the 
subjecl  of  the  writings  ol  Ayrshire's  immortal 
bard,  whose  fame  was  then  spreading  far  and 
wide  over  the  habitable  globe,  it  dwell  for  some 
lime  upon  the  attractive  theme;  and  the  tall 
pines  were  already  beginning  to  cast  their  length- 
ened shadows  over  the  lawn,  ere  the  merchant 
remembered  that  Dame  Christie  might  he 
"wenryin"'  for  his  return,  and  perhaps  scold 
him  fur  exposing  himself  and  his  daughter  to  the 
perils  of  the  Muoshanne  stump-studded  track  in 
the  dusk  of  evening.  The  chaise  having  been 
ordered  to  the  door,  David  Muir  put  on  his  hat 
and  rioak,  while  Jessie  donned  her  bonnet  and 
flhawl;  and  a  few  minutes  saw  them  jogging 
«leadily  away  on  their  return  to  Marietta. 
•  For  some  time  neither  broke  the  silence  of 
the  deep  forest  through  which  they  were  driving, 
foreacn  had  their  own  subject  for  meditation. 
Jessie,  whose  spirit  was  softened  by  the  songs 
■of  her  father-land,  and  had  been  touched  by  the 
gentle  kindness  of  Lucy's  manner  towards  her, 
im  looked  steadily  towards  the  west ;  and  while  she 
iM  thought  that  she  was  adtniring  the  gigantic  hem- 
.lock  pineSj  whose  hi)>;e  limbs  now  came  out  in 
bold  relief  from  the  ruddy  saflron  sky  beyond, 
her  musings  blended  in  sweet  but  vague  confu- 
sion the  banks  of  Allan,  Doon,  and  Ayr,  with 
those  of  the  river  beside  her,  and  pictured  the 
"Janiies,"  "Willies,"  and  other  "braw,  braw 
lads"  of  Scottish  minstrelsy,  in  the  form  of  no 
less  a  personage  than  Harry  Gregson, 

She  was  roused  from  her  reverie  by  the  voice 
of  her  father,  whose  meditations  had  taken  quite 
a  different  direction,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  con- 
versation that  ensued  between  them. 

"Jessie,  it's  a  gae  bonnie  house,  yon  Moo- 
shanne,  an'  the  mailen's*  the  best  in  th'  haill 
Territory." 

"  Indeed,  father,  it  is  a  very  pretty  house,  and 
moFt  kind  are  those  who  live  in  it.'' 

"  Wad  ye  no'  like  to  live  in  it  yoursel,  Jessie  1" 

"  To  say  truth,  father,  I  would  rather  live  in  a 
smaller  house  that  I  might  call  my  own." 

"  But  suppose  ye  might  ca'  yon  fine  house 
your  own,  what  wad  ye  say  then,  lassie  1"  This 
mquiry  was  enforced  with  a  significant  poke 
from  the  merchant's  elbow. 

Jessie  looked  up  in  her  father's  face,  and  see- 
ing that  it  was  unusually  grave,  she  replied, 
"  Father,  I  do  not  understand  what  you  are  aim- 
ing at.  I  am  very  happv  in  our  house  at  Mart-, 
etta,  and  wish  for  none  better." 

"  Ye're  a  fule,"  said  the  merchant,  angrily. 
"  I  tell  ye,  Jessie,  ye're  no  belter  than  a  fule ; 
and  when  foriun'  hands  oot  her  han'  to  ye,  ye'll 
no'  gang  half-way  to  tak'  it.  Hae  ye  no'  seen 
how  oft  Maister  Reginald  comes  to  our  store, 
and  hangs  ahoot  it  like  a  tod  round  a  hen-roost  V 

"  Indeed,  father,  I  have  made  no  such  remark ; 
and  if  Master  Reginald  did  often  come  to  our 


*  Farm-buildinga. 


store,  it  was  for  powder,  or  a  knife,  or  soma 
trifles  fur  Mis*  Lucy,  and  not  tor  any  oiher 
cause." 

"  Hoot  awa'  wi'  your  pt)ulher  and  knives,  ye 
blind  hizzio,"  said  the  merchant ;  "  it  was  to  see 
and  speak  wi'  yoursel',  and  no'  for  any  other 
cause." 

"  Father,  I  am  sure  you  are  mistaken  ;  Muster 
Hegiiiiild  would  never  so  lur  forget  the  diflerenco 
in  our  rank  and  condition,  and  I  should  be  very 
sorry  if  he  did." 

"  What  do  ye  mean,  lass,  about  difference  o' 
rank  and  condeetion  1  Are  the  Muirs  no'  as 
weel-born  as  ony  lord  or  duke  in  Ihe  nuld  kin- 
trn  1  Do  ye  no'  ken  that  my  mother's  father'.! 
si.ster  was  married  to  Muir  of  Drumliwhanpit, 
an'  that  he  was  near  cousin  to  the  Laird  o'  Hla- 
gowrie,  wha  married  the  sister  o'  the  Earl  o' 
(jlencairni  Rank  and  condeetion,  indeed  I  aa 
I  tauld  ye  just  now,  ye're  neither  mair  nor  le.ss 
than  a  fule,  Jessie.  Why,  thk  Colonel  spak' 
wi'  Rie  nnent  the  matter  this  vera  day,  an'  said 
that  he'd  do  what  lay  in  his  power  to  niak'  a' 
smooth  an'  comfortable." 

Jessie  Muir  was  now,  indeed,  surprised ;  for 
she  had  hitherto  imagined  that  the  idea  of  Regi- 
nald Krnndon  having  taken  a  fancy  to  her,  was 
one  of  those  crotchets  which  the  merchant  some- 
limes  took  up,  and  which  he  would  then  main- 
tain with  all  the  pei'tinacious  obstinacy  ( "  his 
character;  but  she' knew  him  to  be  incapi.  e  ot 
a  direct  untruth,  and  was,  therefore,  overwhelm- 
ed with  astonishment  at  the  communication  last 
made  to  her. 

Wo  should  not  faithfully  portray  Jessie's 
character  were  we  to  say  that  she  experieti.id 
no  .secret  gratification,  when  she  learned  that  her 
hand  was  sought  by  one  possessed  of  so  many 
advantages  of  person  and  fortune ;  but  we  should 
do  her  injustice  were  we  not  lo  add,  that  the  sen- 
sation endured  only  for  a  moment ;  and  then  her 
heart  reverting  to  Henry  Gregson,  she  thought 
only  of  the  increased  obstacles  which  would 
now  interfere  with  their  attachment,  and  she 
burst  into  tears. 

"Dinna  greet,  lassie,  dinna  greet,"*  said  the 
merchant,  surprised  and  somewhat  softened  by 
this  unexpected  emotion,  and  he  muttered  to 
himself,  "  There's  no  kenning  the  twists  and 
krankums  o'  a  woman's  mincll  I  tell  her  that 
she's  courted  by  a  weel-faured  young  man.  wi' 
the  best  prospects  in  the  haill  Territory,  and  she 
taks  on  to  greet  like  a  skclpU  wean."t 

After  various  inefiectual  attempts  to  draw 
from  her  any  explanation  of  the  cause  of  her 
grief,  he  ceased  to  interrogate  her,  wisely  re- 
solving to  consult  Dame  Christie  on  the  subject, 
and  they  drove  on  in  silence  until  they  reached 
their  home  in  Marietta. 

As  they  entered  the  house  the.  .vere  met  by 
ttarry  Gregson,  who  led  the  w"  -u:':  the  par- 
lour, where  he  placed  in  the  mert'»M  is  hand  a 
paper  which  had  arrived  during  his  absence, 
and  which  proved  to  be  an  extensive  order  for 
articles  to  be  shipped  for  St.  Louis  on  the  follow- 
ing day. 

While  David  Muir  rar  his  eye  over  the  list, 
calculating  the  amoun:  of  profit  which  he  might 
expect  to  realize  from  the  whole,  young  Greg- 
son, observing  the  tears  not  yet  dry  upon  Jes- 
sie's cheek,  cast  upon  her  a  look  of  anxious  af- 
fectionate inquiry,  which  seemed  only  to  increase 
her  confusion  and  distress. 


■I,   ' 

ii,-:  i 


'  Cry  or  weep. 


t  Whipped  child 


^ 


158 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


I 


!:    ')■ 


"  Father,  I  am  tired,"  she  whispered,  in  a  sub- 
dued voice,  "  and  will  go  to  my  ruuin  lu  rest." 
Having  received  his  emtirace,  she  turned  toward.s 
the  duor,  where  Gregson  presented  to  her  a  candit 
that  he  had  lighted  lor  her,  and  in  so  doing  he  took 
her  band  and  pressed  it ;  she  withdrew  it  gently, 
and,  in  reply  to  his  "  Good  night,  Miss  Jessie," 
gave  him  in  silence  a  parting  look  so  full  of 
mingled  tenderness  and  grief,  that  his  anxiety  was 
no  longer  to  be  controlled,  and  he  resolved  to 
draw  from  the  merchant  some  explanation  of  her 
agitation.  Seeing  that  he  had  at  length  finished 
his  careful  perusal  of  the  paper,  he  said,  "  I  think, 
sir,  that  Miss  Je«sie  looks  very  unwell  this  even- 
ing; has  anything  happened  to  hurt  or  alarm 
herl" 

"  Naething,  naething,  my  gude  lad,  only  I  tauld 
her  some  news  that  ought  to  have  made  her  blithe 
as  a  lavroch,*  and  she  thought  fit  to  wet  hereen 
wi'  doolt  anent  it." 

"  That  is  strange,  indeed,"  replied  the  young 
man;  and  he  added,  in  a  hesitating  tone,  "1 
hope,  sir,  you  will  not  think  me  impertinent,  as 
I  take  so  much  interest  in  all  that  concerns  your 
fan.ily,  if  I  inquire  what  was  the  nature  of  the 
good  news  that  you  communicated  to  Miss  Jes- 
sie V 

"  Why,  Hairy,"  replied  the  merchant,  sinking 
his  voice  to  a  confidential  whisper,  "  as  ye're  a 
discreet  cannie  lad,  that'll  no  crack:  about  they 
things  all  ower  the  loon,  I  may  just  tell  ye  that 
Jessie — " 

"  David !  David  !"  screamed  a  shrill  voice  from 
the  room  above,  "are  ye  gaun  to  haverS  there 
the  lee-lang  night?" 

"  Comin'  this  moment,  Christie,"  said  the  obo- 
dient  husband,  leaving  the  room  as  he  spoke, 
with  the  air  and  countenance  of  one  so  thorough- 
ly hen-pecked,  that  Harry  Gregson,  in  spite  of 
his  anxiety,  laughed  outright;  saying  to  him- 
self, as  many  a  lover  has  said  before  and  since, 
"How  unlike  is  Jessie's  voice  to  that  of  her 
mother!" 


CHAPTER  XL. 

Besha  pnrsueii  his  Career  aa  a  Diplomatiat. — An  agreeable 
Tite-A-Tite  (liiBgreeablr  interrupted.— The  Steps  tlint 
Mahiga  took  to  support  nil  declinio;  Interests  among  the 
Crows. 

We  left  Besha  engaged  in  an  attempt  to  lib- 
erate the  bride  of  the  young  Crow  chief^  by  prO' 
posing  to  Reginald  and  his  party  an  exchange 
of  prisoners. 

On  arriving  at  the  camp  he  was  allowed  to 
pass  by  the  sentries,  and  took  his  way  up  the  hill 
to  the  tent  of  Prairie-bird.    As  soon  as  the  ob- 

i'ect  of  his  errand  became  known  a  council  was 
leld,  consisting  of  Reginald  Brandon,  War-Ea 
gle,  Baptiste,  Pierre,  and  Wingenund,  and,  hav 
ing  heard  the  proposal  made  on  the  part  of  the 
Crows,  they  proceeded  to  deliberate  on  the  course 
to  be  pursued. 

They  could  have  no  hesitation  in  agreeing  to 
an  exchange  of  prisoners,  could  that  be  effiicted 
upon  equal  terms,  but  the  Crows  insisted  upon 
the  return  n*"  Bending-willow  as  a  preliminary 
step  towards  the  release  of  their  prisoners,  and 
to  this  Baptiste  and  Pierre  were  most  strongly 
opposed,  especially  the  latter,  who  had  experi- 
enced on  more  th.m  one  occasion  the  proverbial 
treachery  of  the  Upsaroka  tribe. 


•  Lark. 
t  Goesip. 


t  Sorrow. 
1)  Chatter. 


Reginald  was  disposed,  with  the  fearless  gen 
orusity  of  his  nature,  to  be  satisfied  with  binding 
them  by  the  most  solemn  obligations,  recognised 
hy  their  customs,  to  release  ttieir  prisoners  on 
the  safe  rejurn  of  Bending-willow,  but  his  opin- 
ion vas  overruled  by  his  companions;  and  the 
horse-dealer's  mission  wore  a  most  unpromising 
aspect,  when  he  bethought  him  of  delivering  the 
note  written  by  Paul  Miiller  to  Reginald. 

The  perusal  of  this  eflected  an  immediate  al- 
teration in  the  sentiments  of  ihe  council,  and  the 
restoration  of  the  captive  bride  was  decided  upon. 
She  was  .seated  in  the  outer  compartmentof  Prai- 
rii.--bir(i  .i  tent  when  Besha  entered,  accompanied 
by  Heginald,  to  inform  her  of  her  liberation. 

Pierre,  who  was  still  suspicious  of  some 
treachery,  and  who  had  some  knowledge  of  the 
Crow  language,  placed  his  ear  at  the  corner  of 
the  aperture  with  the  intention  of  discovering 
any  under-plot  that  might  be  going  forward. 

Besha,  however,  was  too  cially  to  be  caught 
in  such  a  trap,  or  else  he  did  not  intend  to  make 
Bending-willow  the  confident  of  his  real  inten- 
tions, so  he  simply  announced  to  her  that  she 
was  free  to  return  to  her  husband's  Imige,  and 
that  the  white  prisoners  were  to  be  restored  in 
exchange  for  her. 

Shaking  off  the  sadness  by  which  she  had  been 
of  late  overcome,  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  her 
eyes  sparkling  with  grateful  joy,  she  pressed  lier 
handi'pon  Reginald's  breast,  then  looking  round, 
she  proiiounced  distinctly  the  name  of"  Olitipa." 

On  hearing  herself  thus  called.  Prairie-bird 
came  forth  from  her  inner  tent,  and  having  learn- 
ed tiie  intelligence  that,  by  the  restoration  of  her 
new  friend,  the  liberation  of  Paul  Miiller  was  to 
be  effected,  she  embraced  the  former  and  pr(V 
sented  her  with  a  necklace  of  coral.  Bending- 
willow  returned  the  embrace  with  aflfectionate 
earnestness,  and  was  then  led  by  Besha  from 
the  tent. 

As  they  passed  towards  the  stockade,  Pierre, 
whose  suspicions  were  not  yet  entirely  lulled, 
and  who  felt  a  deep  interest  in  the  safety  of  Ethel- 
ston,  came  up  to  the  horse-dealer,  and  whisf  !»red 
in  his  ear,  "  If  the  tongues  of  the  Crows,  or  of 
Besha,  are  forked,  if  the  white  prisoners  are  de- 
tained or  injured,  many  widows  shall  howl  in 
the  camp,  and  the  tongues  of  the  wolves  shall  be 
red  with  Upsaroka  blood  I" 

The  Prairie-Guide  spoke  these  words  in  a  tone 
of  deep  meaning,  and  Besha  knew  that  he  ^ras 
not  a  man  likely  to  utter  an  idle  or  empty  threat; 
he  answered  accordingly,  "  If  Besha  lives,  the 
prisoners  shall  return  unhurt  before  the  next 
sunset,"  and  so  saying  pursued  his  unmolested 
way  to  the  Crow  camp. 

While  they  w«re  crossing  the  valley  which 
separated  the  two  encampments,  Reginald,  War- 
Eagle,  and  Baptiste  still  lingered  near  the  door 
of  the  tent,  discussing  the  events  of  the  day,  and 
expressing  their  respective  opinions  as  to  the 
probable  conduct  of  the  Crows. 

"  What  says  Prairie-bird  V  inquired  Reginald, 
addressing  the  maiden,  who  had  bef>n  a  not  un- 
interested auditor  of  the  discussion. 

"  Has  not  the  Crow  chief,"  she  replied, "  giv- 
en a  faithful  promise  that  on  the  return  of  the 
bride  he  would  restore  my  father  and  his  friend 
unhurt!" 

"He  has."  '         •  ■ 

"What  then  is  the  doubt?" 

"The  doubt  is,  whether  the  word  of  the  Crow 
can  be  believed?  whether  he  may  not  still  de- 
tain, or  injure  his  prisoners?" 


)       I 


/^ 


THE   PUAIKIE-BIRD, 


159' 


Prairie-bird  mused  for  .1  few  seconds,  as  if 
debating  within  herself  the  possibility  uf  such 
falsehood  ;  then  raising  her  liead,  she  said  in  a 
tone  of  emphasis,  "Fear  not:  my  father  and 
your  friend  will  return  to  us  uninjured," 

"1  accept  the  omen,  sweet  prophetess!"  ex- 
claimed Reginald,  cheerfully ;  "  and  will  believe 
that  their  thoughts  are  honest  and  straightibr- 
ward  as  you  deem  them,  unless  their  conduct 
should  prove  the  contrary;  in  that  event,"  he 
added,  turning  to  War-Eagle,  "  my  Indian  broth- 
er and  I  will  see  what  our  own  heads  and  hands 
can  do  to  set  free  our  friends." 

The  chief  replied  not;  but  the  sarcastic  smile 
that  played  over  his  dark  features,  showed  how 
little  he  shared  in  Prairie-bird's  opinion  of  Up- 
taroka  faith. 

Meanwhile,  Bending-willow  returned  in  safe- 
ly to  her  lodge,  where  Besha  presented  her,  with 
an  air  of  triumph,  to  her  impatient  lord.  The 
other  wives  and  women  retired  while  she  related 
to  him  her 'adventures,  and  from  the  mingled 
laughter  and  caresses  with  which  he  listened  to 
her  narrative,  it  is  probable  that  she  confessed 
to  him  the  motive  that  had  induced  her  to  seek 
the  Medici.ie  uf  the  white  tent. 

As  soon  as  she  concluded,  he  desired  one  of 
his  young  men  to  lead  before  the  lodge  a  favour- 
ite horse,  swift,  high-couraged,  and  strong,  from 
the  back  nf  which  he  had  killed,  with  lance  and 
bow,  many  a  bison  cow.  Placing  the  bridle  of 
raw  hide  in  the  hands  of  the  horse-dealer,  he  said, 
"Besha  has  brought  back  the  Sweet-scented- 
willow  to  its  bed,  he  shall  not  go  away  with 
empty  hands.  When  he  rides  through  the  vil- 
lage the  warriors  shall  say  that  his  horse  is  (it 
to  carry  a  chief;  and  if  any  speak  to  him  bad 
words,  let  him  tell  them  to  beware,  for  While 
Bull  calls  him  brother!" 

So  saying,  the  young  savage,  who  had  now 
completely  recovered  his  good  humour,  haU'-lilt- 
ed,  tiali-threw  the  astonished  dealer  upon  the 
horse's  back,  and  turned  again  into  the  lodge  to 
renew  his  caresses  to  his  recovered  bride. 

"All  goes  well!"  thought  Besha  within  him- 
self, as  he  rode  towards  his  own  quarters,  pro- 
ving with  professional  .vkill,  the  paces  and  quali- 
ties of  his  new  steed.  "  All  goes  well !  and  this 
animal  will  letch  me  two  hundred  dollars  in  the 
lower  Arkansas  country ;  few  such  are  to  be 
found  there.  I  wonder  where  this  Crow  thief 
ibund  or  stole  itl  If  I  can  manage  with  fine 
words  to  get  a  few  more  skins  from  this  tribe, 
and  a  few  more  presents  from  the  white  men,  I 
will  join  the  summer  return-train  from  the  Black 
Hills,  and  make  my  way  back  towards  the 
east." 

Indulging  in  these  honest  and  disinterested 
meditations,  the  horse-dealer  arrived  belbre  his 
own  lodge,  where  his  Indian  wife  awaited  his 
coming  with  a  savoury  mess  of  bison-meat  and 
marrow ;  after  despatching  which  he  smoked  his 
pipe;  without  permitting  any  reflections  concern- 
ing the  prisoners  whose  cause  he  had  so  shame- 
lessly betrayed,  to  disturb  his  appetite,  or  his 
present  lazy  enjoyment. 

It  was  fortunate  for  them  that  they  had  an  ad- 
vocate more  honest  and  zealous  in  a  quarter 
where  they  least  suspected  it.  This  was  Bend- 
ing-willow ;  who,  after  showing  to  her  lover-hus- 
band the  coral  necklace  given  to  her  by  Prairie- 
bird,  and  repeating  to  him  the  kind  treatment 
that  she  had  experienced  in  the  lent,  entreated 
him  to  use  his  influence  for  the  restoration  of  the 
prisoners. 


This  she  was  not  able  to  elTect,  as  he  stated 
that  they  belonged  to  the  great  council,  who 
would  decide  upon  their  fate,  after  consulting 
the  Medicine;  but  she  obtained  from  him  a  prom- 
ise that  be  would  in  the  meantime  protect  them 
from  all  chance  injury,  as  well  as  Irom  the  vio- 
lence uf  any  personal  enemy  who  might  bear 
them  ill-will. 

The  deliberations  of  the  Indian  tribes  are,  ia 
fact,  carried  on  in  a  manner  more  strongly  re- 
sembling those  of  civilised  nations  than  is  usu- 
ally believed ;  that  i.s,  a  lew  leading  men  meet: 
together,  and  arrange  the  plan  of  operations  to  be 
pursued,  after  which  they  convoke  the  grand 
council  by  whatever  name  it  may  be  called,  and 
insensibly  lead  its  members  to  propose,  second, 
and  carry  the  measures  previously  agreed  upon. 
Thus  it  was  with  the  Crows  upon  the  present 
occasion.  The  old  chief  of  the  band,  as  soon  as 
he  learned  the  safe  return  of  Bending-willow,  sent 
tor  his  sun  the  White-Bull,  whose  rank  as  lead- 
er uf  the  braves  entitled  him  to  be  present  at  a 
secret  council;  two  other  warriors,  of  more  ad- 
vanced age  and  experience,  were  also  admitted; 
and  these  lour  being  assembled,  they  entered 
upon  their  deliberations  with  a  freedom  of  thought 
and  speech  such  as  could  not  have  been  consist- 
ent with  the  tbrms  and  usages  of  a  public  meet- 
ing. 

It  would  be  tedious  10  relate  in  order  the  vari- 
ous arguments  that  were  adduced  by  the  several 
speakers  in  turn ;  sufhce  it  tu  sny,  that  the  father 
of  While-Bull,  independent  of  his  claim  to  au- 
thority as  chief,  happened  to  be  the  oldest  niaa 
and  the  greatest  rogue  present;  all  which  concur- 
rent advantages  gave  a  prepondeiating  influence 
to  his  advice.  The  result  was,  as  might  have 
been  expected,  its  adoption  by  the  unanimous  con- 
sent uf  his  three  companions;  and,  as  the  after- 
movements  of  the  band  were  regulated  by  it,  a 
brief  sketch  of  its  purport  and  objects  will  not  be 
misplaced. 

His  counsel,  stripped  of  Indian  imagery  and 
ornament,  was,  that  they  should  lor  the  present 
detain  the  prisoners;  and  in  order  to  avoid  the 
consequences  of  the  violent  ebullition  of  resent- 
ment which  might  be  expected  on  the  part  of  the 
White  Men  and  Delawares,  that  they  should  in- 
stantly decamp,  and  marching  towards  the  soutli 
and  west  by  the  most  intricate  and  diflicult  pass- 
es, make  their  way  to  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
district  where  Mah^ga  informed  them  that  he 
had  concealed  his  goods  and  stores.  These  it 
was  their  intention,  of  course,  to  appropriate,  and 
afterwards  to  deal  with  their  dangerous  and 
haughty  possessor  as  might  be  found  most  expe- 
dient. Meanwhile  it  was  certain  that  the  allied 
band  would  follow  their  trail  for  the  recovery  of 
the  prisoners,  and  if  they  did  so,  with  their  bag- 
gage and  Prairie-bird's  tent,  the  Crows  had  lit- 
tle fear  of  being  overtaken,  excepting  when  they 
chose  to  halt  for  the  purpose ;  if,  on  the  contrary, 
the  allied  bund  should  divide,  the  chief  knew 
that  from  the  intimate  acquaintance  of  his  war- 
riors with  the  localities,  they  would  easily  fmd' 
means  to  attack  and  overcome  the  weaken- 
ed party  lell  in  charge  of  the  tent,  and  its  won- 
derful mi.stress. 

This  outline  of  operations  being  settled,  it  wa» 
further  agreed  that  the  prisoners  should  be  en- 
trusted li  the  care  of  White-Bull,  who  made 
himself  responsible  for  their  security,  and  who 
was  to  lead  the  van  of  the  retreat,  while  Besha 
was  summoned,  and  ordered  to  explain  to  the 
'  Osage  chief  the  proposed  plan  of  operations,  and 


i     ii 


160 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


that  to  him  was  to  be  assigned  the  honourable 
post  of  defending  the  rear  of  the  march. 

In  consequence  of  all  these  preliminary  ar- 
rangements, a  formal  council  was  summoned, 
at  which  they  were  proposed  and  agreed  upon, 
with  the  sanction  of  the  Medicine,  and  a  treaty 
was  entered  into  with  Mahega,  by  which  he 
bound  himself  with  his  companions  to  fight  laith- 
^ully  for  the  Crows,  and  to  make  over  to  them 
one  half  of  his  goods  concealed  in  the  c  che,  on 
condition  that  they  should  do  everything  in  their 
power  to  recover  lor  him  the  Great  Medicine 
of  the  tent,  and  his  baggage  now  in  the  hands  of 
the  Delawares. 

These  arrangements  and  agreements  were  no 
sooner  completed  than  they  were  carried  into  ex- 
ecution with  a  speed,  order,  and  noiseless  silence 
peculiar  to  these  roving  tribes,  whose  fate  is  so 
often  dependent  upon  iJbe  secrecy  and  celerity  of 
their  movements. 

While  these  things  were  going  forward  in  the 
Crow  camp,  Reginald  sat  by  the  side  of  Prairie- 
bird  under  the  small  cedar-tree  in  front  of  her  tent. 
Being  still  somewhat  stitf  from  the  wounds  and 
bruises  received  in  the  late  attack,  he  gladly  avail- 
ed himself  of  that  pretext  for  enjoying  a  few  hours 
of  repose  in  the  society  of  his  beloved,  while  he 
left  itie  chief  care  of  the  defence  of  the  camp  to 
Baptiste  and  War-Eagle. 

His  eye  wandered  occasionally  across  the  val- 
ley below,  and  scanned  with  an  anxious  look  the 
opposite  hill  upon  which  the  dusky  figures  of  the 
Crows  were  seen  moving  to  and  fro  between  the 
lodges  and  bushes,  until  it  returned  to  rest  upon 
the  lovely  countenance  of  his  companion.  That 
countenance,  which  was  now  lighted  up  by  the 
parting  rays  of  the  declining  sun,  beamed  with 
emotions  too  deep  for  utterance. 

Her  love  for  Reginald  was  not  like  the  love  so 
often  found  in  the  artificial  world  of  society,  a 
mere  preference,  engjendered,  perhaps,  by  fancy, 
and  nurtured  by  habit,  accident,  or  mere  conge- 
niality of  tastes,  but  a  single  absorbing  passion, 
the  intensity  of  which  she  trembled  to  acknowl- 
edge even  to  herself.  All  the  poetry,  the  enthusi- 
asm, the  yearnings  of  womanly  feeling  in  her  na- 
ture were  gathered  into  a  focus,  and  nothing  but 
her  strong  and  abiding  sense  of  religion  prevent- 
ed that  love  from  being  idolatry. 

As  her  eye  fell  upon  the  recent  scar  upon  his 
forehead,  and  the  simg  in  which  his  left  arm  was 
enveloped,  she  remembered  that  twice  already 
iiad  his  blood  been  shed  in  her  defence,  twice 
had  her  life  been  saved  at  the  risk  of  his  own. 
Tears  of  delicious  gratitude,  tears  sweeter  than 
any  smiles  that  ever  dimpled  the  cheek  of  joy 
began  to  flow,  and  half  averting  her  face  from 
her  lovei,  she  turned  it  thoughilully  towards  the 
western  horizon. 

The  orb  of  the  sun  had  just  disappeared  be- 
hind the  rugged  and  far-distant  mountain  range, 
whose  towering  and  snow-clad  peaks  stood  out 
in  clear  relief  from  the  deep  masses  of  cloud 
vliose  wavy  edges  still  reflected  his  goli'-n  light. 
A  mellowed  haze  wrapped  as  in  a  saffiun  man- 
tle the  nearer  hills,  whose  irregular  forms,  some 
rocky  and  precipitous,  others  undulating  and 
covered  with  dense  forests  of  pine  and  cedar, 
formed  the  foreground  of  the  magnificent  even- 
ing landscape.  A  single  star  glimmered  palely 
in  the  twilight  heaven,  a  forerunner  of  the  thou- 
sand glorious  lights  about  to  emerge  from  its 
unfathomed  vault.  To  look  up  from  nature  to 
nature's  God  was  the  habitual  process  of  Prai- 
rie-bird's mind,  a  habit  resulting  partly  from  the 


fatherly  instructions  of  the  Missionary,  but 
chiefly  from  her  constant  study  of  the  Scripture 
amid  scenes  calculated  to  impress  its  lessons 
most  deeply  upon  her. 

Such  a  scene  was  that  now  before  her,  and  as 
the  deepening  shadows  fell  upon  mountain,  for- 
est, and  vale,  a  holier  calm  stole  over  the  cur- 
rent of  her  thoughts,  and  imparted  to  her  eloquent 
features  an  expression  in  which  the  sweet  con- 
sciousness of  reciprocated  earthly  aflection  was 
blended  with  adormg  gratitude  to  Him  whose 
everlasting  name  is  Love. 

The  earnest  and  affectionate  gaze  of  Reginald 
was  still  riveted  upon  her  countenance,  when  a  • 
gentle  sigh  liell  upon  his  watchful  ear.  Taking 
her  hand  within  his  own,  he  whispered  "Is 
Prairie-bird  sad  1— Does  any  sorrow  disturb  her 
peace  1" 

Dropping  to  the  earth  those  humid  eyes  so 
late  upraised  to  heaven,  she  replied,  in  a  hesi- 
tating voice,  "  Not  sad,  dear  Reginald,  but  .  .  . 
afraid." 

"  Afraid !  dearest ;  and  of  what  1  Nay,  blush 
not,  but  tell  me  your  cause  of  fear." 

"  Afraid  of  too  much  happiness,  of  too  much 
love.  I  tremble,  and  doubt  whether  my  thoughts 
are  such  as  God  approves." 

"  Be  not  rash  nor  unjust  in  self-condemnation," 
said  Reginald,  in  a  chiding  tone,  while  secretly 
delighted  by  a  confession  which  his  heart  inter- 
preted aright ;  "  think  you  that  the  Creator  who 
implanted  these  afliections  within  us,  and  who 
has  pronounced  repeated  sanctions  and  blessings 
upon  the  bond  of  wedded  love,  think  you,  dear- 
est, that  He  can  be  offended  at  your  love  for  one 
to  whom  you  have  plighted  your  troth,  and  who, 
albeit  in  many  respects  unworthy  of  such  a 
treasure,  has  at  least  the  merit  of  repaying  it  a 
hundredfold !" 

"  Unworthy  I"  repeated  Prairie-bird,  in  a  lone 
of  reproachful  tenderness, — other  words  trembled 
upon  her  lips,  but  the  instinct  of  maidenly  reserve 
checked  their  utterance,  and  she  was  silent. 

"Nay,  if  you  like  not  the  word,  it  shall  be 
unsaid,"  whispered  Reginald,  gently  pressing  the 
hand  which  he  held  within  his  own;  "and  my 
whole  future  life  shall  be  a  constant  endeavour 
to  make  it  untrue.  Let  me,  however,  guess  at 
the  secret  cause  of  your  fear,  and  of  the  sigh 
that  escaped  you, — you  were  thinking  of  your 
dear  fatherly  instructor,  and  were  afraid  that  he 
would  not  return  1" 

"  Indeed  my  thoughts  were  not  of  him  at  the 
moment,"  she  replied,  with  earnest  simplicity; 
"nor  am  I  afraid  on  his  account." 

"  Why  is  he  not  yet  in  the  hands  of  an  enemy 
whose  cruelty  and  treachery  are  proverbial  1 
What  if  the  Crow  chief  should,  in  spite  of  his 
solemn  premise,  refuse  to  give  up  his  prisoners  1" 

"  It  cannot  be,"  she  replied  gravely ;  "  God  will 
not  permit  such  falsehood." 

"  You  speak,"  said  Reginald,  "  like  one  who 
has  studied  chiefly  your  own  heart,  and  the  pre- 
cious book  now  lying  at  your  side;  but  even 
there  you  may  have  read  that  the  Almighty 
sometimes  permits  falsehood  and  wickedness  to 
triumph  upon  earth." 

"It  is  too  true,"  replied  Prairie-bird;  "yet  I 
feel  a  strong  assurance  that  our  friends  will  re- 
turn to  us  in  safety.  I  cannot  tell  whence  it 
comes— whether  from  a  dream  sent  in  the 
watches  of  the  night,  or  the  secret  whispers  of 
some  mysterious  and  nnseen  counsellor,  but  it 
brings  hope,  rest,  and  comfort  to  my  heart." 

"God  forbid,"  said  Reginald,  passionately, 


;         t 
I 


THE   PRAIKIfl-BIBD. 


161 


ssionary,  but 
■  the  Scripture 
ss  its  lessons 

)re  her,  and  as 
mountain,  for- 
over  the  cur- 
to  her  eloquent 
Ihe  sweet  con- 
'  affection  was 

0  Him  whose 

ze  of  Reginald 
nance,  when  a  • 
ear.    Talting 
vhispered  "Is 
ow  disturb  her 

lumid  eyes  so 
ied,  in  a  hesi- 
inald,  but  .  .  , 

1  Nay,  blush 

,  of  too  much 
er  my  thoughts 

:ondemnation," 
while  secretly 
his  heart  inter- 
le  Creator  who 
n  us,  and  who 
s  and  blessings 
link  you,  dear- 
)ur  love  lor  one 
troth,  and  who, 
thy  of  such  a 
if  repaying  it  a 

-bird,  in  a  lone 
words  trembled 
aidenly  reserve 
was  silent. 
3rd,  it  shall  be 
itly  pressing  the 
3wn ;  "  and  my 
tant  endeavour 
vever,  guess  at 
ind  of  the  sigh 
inking  of  your 
e  afraid  that  he 

:  of  him  at  the 
est  simplicity; 

dsof  an  enemy 
re  proverbial  1 
in  spite  of  his 
his  prisoners  1" 
ely;  "Godwin 

"like  one  who 
rt,  and  the  pre- 
side;  but  even 
the  Almighty 
wickedness  to 

e-bird ;  "  yet  I 
friends  will  re- 
tell whence  it 
I  sent  in  the 
et  whispers  of 
msellor,  but  it 
my  heart." 
passionately, 


"  that  I  should  say  anything  likely  to  banish  such 
sweet  guests  from  so  sweet  a  home.  But  if  Ihe 
Crow  chief  should  be  guilty  of  this  treacherous 
act  of  falsehood,  I  will  endeavour  to  inflict  upon 
him  a  vengeance  so  signal,  as  shall  deter  him 
and  his  tritie  from  any  future  repetition  of  the 
crime." 

"  It  is  lawfi'.i,"  replied  the  maiden, "  to  recover 
our  friends  by  force  or  device,  if  they  are  detain- 
ed by  trearhory;  but  remember,  dear  Reginald, 
that  vengeance  belongs  not  to  our  erring  and 
fallen  r'ice ;  if  the  Upsaroka  should  sin  as  you 
expect,  deleat,  if  you  can,  his  evil  schemes,  but 
leave  his  punishment  to  the  Great  Avenger,  who 
cap  make  bis  latter  days  loathsome  as  those  of 
G-.'hazi,  or  his  death  sudden  and  fearful  as  that 
^Ananias  and  his  guilty  spouse." 

Reginald  coloured  deeply,  for  his  conscience 
reminded  him  that  on  a  hue  occasion  he  had 
used,  in  a  discussion  with  War-Eagle,  the  same 
argument  as  that  now  applied  with  so  much 
force  to  hims^'lf,  and  he  lieJt  ashamed  of  having 
forgotten,  in  the  excitement  of  his  own  passions, 
a  truth  which  he  had  laboured  strongly  to  im- 
press upon  another. 

"  Thanks,  dearest  monitress,"  he  replied,  "  for 
recalling  me  to  my  better  self;  would  that  you 
were  always  by  my  side  to  control  my  impa- 
tience and  reprove  the  hastiness  of  my  temper. 
Nay,  I  trust  ere  long  that  you  will  be  always  at 
my  side;  your  father  and  mstructor  wilt  return, 
and  will  unite  us  in  those  holy  bands  not  to  be 
severed  by  man.  You  will  then  leave  the  prai- 
rie and  the  lent,  and  come  with  me  to  a  home 
where  a  second  father  and  a  loving  sister  claim 
a  share  in  your  affection." 

"  It  shall  be  so,"  replied  Prairie-bird  in  a  low 
and  earnest  voice ;  "  read  my  answer  in  Ihe  lan- 
guage of  one  who,  like  myself,  was  humble  and 
friendless,  but  who,  trusting  in  her  God,  found  in 
a  strange  land  a  husband  and  home." 

"  Nay,  read  it  to  me,"  said  Reginald,  antici- 
pating her  selection;  "however  beautiful  the 
words  may  be,  your  voice  will  make  them  fall 
more  sweetly  on  my  ear." 

Prairie-bird  opened  the  book,  but  she  looked 
not  on  the  page,  for  the  words  were  treasured  in 
her  heart;  and  she  repeated  in  a  voice  faltering 
from  deep  emotion,  "  Whither  thou  goest  I  will 
go,  and  where  thou  lodgest  I  will  lodge;  thy 
people  shall  be  my  people,  and  thy  God  my  God. 
Where  thou  diest  will  I  die,  and  Iheru  will  I  be 
buried;  the  Lord  do  so  to  me,  and  more  also,  if 
aught  but  death  part  thee  and  me." 

As  she  concluded  these  words,  she  looked  up 
to  the  face  of  her  betrothed  with  eyes  beaming 
-with  truth  and  affection.  The  strong  man  was 
overcome;  he  could  only  utter  a  deep  Amen. 
The  consciousness  that  the  trustful,  guileless  be- 
ing now  at  his  side  had  surrendered  to  his  keep- 
ing Ihe  ark  of  her  earthly  happiness,  mingled  an 
awful  responsibility  wiin  the  more  fender  feel- 
ings that  possessed  his  inmost  soul ;  he  felt  what 
has  been  so  truly  described  by  a  poei  out  of 
fashion  and  out  of  date, — that 

"  The  treasures  of  the  deep  are  not  so  precious 
As  are  the  coiicealod  comforts  of  a  mau 
Locked  up  in  womau's  love." 

Then  did  he  record  a  secret  and  solemn  vow 
that  he  would  guard  his  precious  treasure  with 
a  miser's  care;  the  stars  began  more  brightly  to 
twinkle  in  the  sky,  the  watch-fires  emitted 
through  the  deepening  gloom  a  clearer  rav;  and 
as  the  head  of  Prairie-bird  lightly  rested  upon 
her  lover's  shoulder,  they  gave  themselves  up 


to  the  delicious  reveries  suggested  by  the  hour, 
the  scene,  and  hearts  overcharged  with  bliss. 

The  happy  pair  were  suddenly  aroused  from 
their  waking  dream  by  the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle, 
the  flash  of  which  Reginald  distinctly  saw 
through  the  bushes  on  the  side  of  the  hill  below 
them;  a  bullet  whizzed  close  to  his  head,  and  a 
half-suppressed  cry  broke  from  Prairie-bird. 

"Speak,  love,  speak!"  he  exclaimed  in  fran- 
tic alar.m;  "  speak  but  one  word  to  tell  me  you 
are  not  hurt  I" 

"  I  am  not  hurt,"  she  replied;  "God  be  prais- 
ed that  you  are  also  unharmed !  Nay,  dearest, 
do  not  break  from  me."  Here  the  report  of  fire- 
arms was  again  heard,  mingled  with  the  shouts 
and  tumult  of  a  sudden  fray.  "  Our  friends  are 
on  their  guard  I  you  are  still  weak  from  your 
late  wound !  Ob,  Reginald,  stay  1  I  entreat— I 
implore !" 

But  he  beard  her  not;  the  din  of  arms  and  the 
foul  attempt  at  murder,  directed,  as  he  believed, 
against  the  life  of  his  betrothed,  had  awakened 
the  tempest  within  him ;  Ihe  wounded  arm  was 
released  from  its  sling,  and,  with  drawn  cutlass 
in  his  right  hand,  he  rushed  down  the  steep 
slope  of  the  hill  with  the  reckless  speed  of  a 
madman.  We  will  now  proceed  to  explain  the 
cause  of  this  sudden  interruption  of  their  tHe-ci- 
tite. 

It  has  been  already  mentioned  that  Besha  had 
been  charged  with  explaining  to  Mahiga  the 
arrangements  and  plans  adopted  at  the  Upsa- 
roka council.  No  sooner  had  he  done  so,  than 
the  Osage  chief,  finding  that  the  evacuation  of 
the  camp  was  to  take  place  during  the  night, 
resolved  upon  striking,  before  they  withdrew 
from  the  neighbourhood,  one  blow  at  the  foea 
who  had  defeated  and  baffled  him. 

Too  cunning  to  be  deceived  by  the  Crows,  or 
to  be  misled  by  the  flattery  of  Besha,  he  knew 
that  as  he  had  now  no  more  presents  to  ofier, 
his  only  chance  of  retaining  any  authority  or 
influence  with  them  was  by  such  deeds  of  da- 
ring as  should  compel  them  to  look  up  to  him  as 
a  war-leader.  This  feeling,  stimulated  by  his 
thirst  for  revenge,  led  him  without  hesitation  to 
attempt  a  feat  which,  if  successful,  must  render 
him  the  terror  not  less  of  his  allies  than  of  his 
foes. 

As  soon  as  the  Horse-dvaler  had  leA  him  he 
summoned  his  few  remaining  followers,  and  in- 
formed them  that  they  must  prepare  to  march 
during  the  ensuing  night ;  he  told  them  also  that 
he  was  about  to  set  forth  himself  on  the  war- 
path atone,  and  all  that  he  required  of  them  was 
to  conceal  themselves  among  the  bushes  front- 
ing towards  the  enennr's  camp,  so  as  to  cover 
his  retreat  in  case  of'^his  beins  pursued  from 
that  quarter,  and  that  he  intendfea  to  return,  if 
possible,  on  a  horse. 

The  men  listened  with  silent  attention  to  their 
leader's  orders,  and  retired  without  making 
either  comment  or  replv.  Mahi  ga  then  strip- 
ped himself  of  every  ornament  that  could  attract 
attention,  and  threw  off  his  hunting-shirt  and 
ieggins,  thrusting  a  brace  bf  small  pistols  and  a 
long  Itnife  into  his  waist-belt;  and  with  no  oth- 
er covering  than  a  light  pair  of  moccasins  on 
hi?  feet,  he  stole  out  of  the  camp  at  a  point 
which  was  not  visible  from  the  enemy's  quar- 
ters. 

Availing  himself  of  every  ravine  and  undula- 
.tion  of  ground,  he  made  a  swift  circuit  in  the 
distant  prairie,  and  approached  the  Delaware 
camp  on  the  north-eastern  side,  where,  as  has 


hv;  it 


180 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


been  before  mentioned,  it  was  protected  by  a 
precipitous  clifl'.  He  had  observed  a  narrow 
vnlley  in  this  direction,  not  more  than  half  a 
mile  from  the  base  of  the  rucic,  to  which  the 
white  men  drove  their  horses  lor  pasture;  and 
as  a  view  of  it  was  commanded  from  the  height, 
they  were  only  guarded  by  a  single  man,  who 
drove  them  back  in  the  evening  to  the  camp. 
The  man  who  hfippened  to  be  on  duty  there  was 
a  hunter  belonging  to  the  band  brought  out  by 
Pierre,  a  brave,  and  somewhat  reckless  fellow, 
who  had  been  inured  tc  all  the  hardships  and 
risks  of  a  mountain  tra)iper's  llle. 

The  crafty  Osage,  ha vmg  succeeded  in  obtain- 
ing the  important  advantage  of  seeing  his  oppo- 
nent before  he  could  be  himself  perceived,  di- 
rected his  movements  accordingly.  He  might, 
perhaps,  have  succeeded  in  creeping  near  enough 
to  shout  him,  and  have  gained  the  shelter  of  his 
own  camp  before  he  could  be  overtaken;  but 
such  was  not  his  purpose.  He  had  determined 
that  the  bullet  now  in  his  rifle  should  lodge  in 
the  heart  of  Reginald  or  War-Eagle,  and  no  j 
other  life  coulJ  satisfy  his  revenge. 

Not  more  than  a  hundred  paces  from  the  spot 
where  the  unconscious  sentry  sat,  witli  his  face 
towards  the  Upsaroka  camp,  the  valley  made  a 
bend,  becoming  at  the  same  place  narrower  and 
steeper  in  its  banks;  thither  did  Mahcga  stealth- 
ily creep,  and  on  reaching  it  found  that  he  was 
not  within  sight  of  his  enemy. 

After  waiting  some  time,  during  which  he 
carefully  noted  every  bush  and  hillock  that 
might  be  made  subservient  to  his  projected  plan, 
■he  saw  feeding  towards  him  a  steady  old  pack- 
horse,  whose  scarred  back  and  sides  showed 
that  lie  had  carried  many  a  weary  burthen  over 
mountain  and  prairie.  "  The  Osage  remarked 
also,  that  the  animal  had  n  long  laryette  of  hide 
round  its  neck.  As  soon  as  he  felt  assured  that 
it  had  passed  the  bend,  mu!  could  no  longer  be 
seen  by  the  man  on  gi!;ii  J,  lit  caught  the  end  of 
the  laryette,  and  led  lii-;  unresisting  quadruped 
prisoner  to  a  spot  liiriiiLT  up  the  valley,  where 
some  thick  bushes  otiered  him  the  means  of 
concealing  himself.  Here  he  twisted  the  laryette 
firmly  around  the  fore-leg  of  the  horse,  and  en- 
sconcing himself  behind  the  largest  of  the  bush- 
es, patiently  awaited  the  result. 

As  the  shades  of  evening  drew  on,  the  hunter 
rose  to  collect  and  drive  his  horses  to  the  camp. 
Having  gathered  thuse  in  the  lower  part  of  the 
valley,  he  afterwards  came  in  searcn  of  those 
that  had  strayed  beyond  the  bend.  When  his 
eye  fell  upon  the  old  pack-horse  cropping  the 
long  grass,  and  occasionally  the  younger  shoots 
of  the  adjacent  bushes,  he  muttered  to  himself, 
"The  old  fool  hasn't  sense  to  know  summer 
from  winter ;  there  he  .stands,  gnawing  the  twigs 
off  I  he  bushes,  when  he  might  be  eating  the  best 
grass  in  the  bottom." 

As  soon  as  he  reached  the  animal  whom  he 
thus  apostrophised,  he  laid  down  his  rifle,  in 
order  to  free  the  entangled  leg  from  the  laryette. 
While  stooping  for  this  pnrpose,  a  slight  rus- 
tling of  leaves  caught  his  ear;  and  ere  he  could 
•oolt  round  the  fierce  Osage  sprang  upon  him 
with  the  bound  of  a  tiger.  The  unfortunate 
man  strove  to  catch  up  his  rifle,  but  the  foot  of 
the  giant  was  upon  it,  a  grasp  of  iron  was  upon 
his  throat,  and  ere  he  could  uiter  a  sound  or 
raise  a  hand,  the  knife  of  the  savage  was  buried 
in  his  heart. 

Having  thus  far  succeeded  in  his  plan,  Ma- 
hcga dressed  hiirself  from  head  to  foot  in  the 


clothes  of  his  victim,  taking  possession  at  the 
same  time  of  his  knife  and  pistols,  having  first 
deliberately  scalped  him,  and  placed  the  scalp 
in  his  own  belt,  below  the  ill-fated  hunter's 
>hirt.  When  thus  accoutred  and  attired,  the 
Osage  grinned  with  satisfaction,  and  proceeded 
10  the  next,  and  more  dangerous  portion  of  his 
enterprise. 

His  first  step  was  to  select  and  secure  the 
best  horse  from  those  pasturing  in  the  valley, 
which  he  bridled  with  the  laryette  already  men- 
tioned ;  and  having  slung  the  hunter's  rifle  over 
his  shoulder,  he  mounted  his  newly-acquired 
stc-ed,  and  began  leisurely  to  drive  the  others 
towards  the  Delaware  camp.  As  soon  as  he 
emerged  from  the  v;illey  he  came  in  sight  of  the 
enemy's  sentries  and  outposts;  but  the  well- 
known  wolf-skin  cap,  and  elk-skin  shirt,  attract- 
ed no  particular  attention,  and  he  rode  delib- 
ti;  idly  Ibrward  until  he  reached  a  huge  pine- 
iree,  the  shade  of  whose  branches  was  rendered 
;.  et  mure  dark  by  the  deepening  gloom  of  even- 
nig,  ilere  he  listened  his  horse;  and  leaving 
'lie  others  to  find  their  way  as  they  best  might, 
he  struck  boldly  into  the  thicket  that  fringed  the 
base  of  the  hill. 

Conscious  that  he  was  now  in  the  midst  of 
enemies,  and  that  his  life  must  depend  upon  his 
own  skill  and  address,  he  crept  forward  up  the 
steep  ascent,  now  stopping  to  listen  for  the  sound 
of  a  fooifHJl,  now  straining  his  eyes  through  the 
dusky  shade,  in  search  of  some  light  or  object 
by  which  to  direct  his  course.  Knowmg  every 
inch  of  the  ground,  he  was  soon  able  to  distin- 
guish the  angle  of  the  stockade,  and  at  no  great 
distance  above  it  the  white  tent,  iianially  light- 
ed up  by  a  fire,  round  which  were  seated  Mon- 
sieur Perrot,  Pierre,  and  several  others. 

As  night  drew  on,  and  the  surrounding  scen- 
ery became  involved  in  deeper  gloom,  the  watch- 
fire  emitted  a  stronger  ligiit,  by  which  Mahcga 
caught,  at  length,  a  view  of  Reginald  seated  by 
the  side  of  Prairie-bird.  All  the  stormy  pas- 
sions in  his  breast,  jealousy,  haired,  and  re- 
venge, were  kindled  at  the  sight;  and  as  soon 
as  he  thought  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle  truly  aimed 
at  his  rival's  heart,  he  fired.  Fortunate  was  it 
for  Reginald  that  the  light  cast  by  the  fire  was 
flickering  and  uncertain,  or  that  hour  had  been 
his  last. 

The  savage,  without  waiting  to  see  the  result 
of  his  shot,  which  had  alarmed  the  hunters  and 
the  Delawares  patroling  near  the  spot,  rushed 
down  the  hill  towards  the  tree  where  he  had  left 
his  horse.  'I'wice  was  his  path  crossed  by  an 
enemy;  the  first  he  felled  with  a  blow  on  the 
head  from  the  discharged  rifle,  and  the  second, 
which  was  no  less  a  person  than  honest  Bap- 
tiste  himself,  he  narrowly  missed,  in  firing  a 
pistol  in  his  face  at  so  near  a  distance  that,  al- 
though unhurt  by  the  ball,  his  cheek  was  singed 
by  the  powder. 

Completely  taken  by  surprise,  the  Guide  fired 
into  the  bushes  after  the  retreating  figure  of  his 
unknown  foe,  and  then  dashed  forward  in  pur- 
suit;' but  the  darkness  favoured  the  escape  of 
the  Osage,  who  never  paused  nor  turned  again 
until  he  reached  the  spot  where  he  had  fastened 
the  horse;  then  vaulting  on  its  back,  he  shouted 
his  insulting  war-cry,  in  a  voice  that  might  be 
heard  above  all  the  mingled  sounds  of  pursuit, 
struck  his  heel  into  the  flank  of  the  captured 
steed,  and,  unscathed  by  any  of  the  bullets  that 
whistled  after  him,  reached  the  Crow  camp  in 
safely.  -    ,.      ,  ,  -^  ^-.y 


f« 


i 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


r(!3 


I 


The  Osage  warriors  looked  with  some  sur- 
prise upon  their  chief  in  his  unusual  nttire,  but 
he  brierty  returned  their  greeting,  and  proceeded 
without  delay  to  the  lodge  of  the  Up^taroka 
chief.  A  tire  was  burning  there,  by  the  light  of 
which  he  recognised  the  old  man  seated  in  the 
midst,  with  his  son,  VV  hile-Bull,  on  his  right 
and  BeSha  at  some  distance  on  liis  left.  Ma- 
bega  had  by  this  time  thrown  ofi'  the  ^>arments 
of  the  slain  hunter,  which  were  slung  across  the 
horse.  Leading  the  latter  foiward,  until  the 
light  of  the  fire  fell  upon  it  and  upon  himself, 
he  stood  a  moment  in  an  attitude  of  haughty 
ind  silent  expectation.  White-Bull  and  his  fa- 
;her  raised  their  eyes  in  surprise  at  the  sudden 
appearance  of  their  guest,  and  in  involuntary 
admiration  of  his  herculean  figure,  the  fine  pro- 
portions of  which  were  seen  to  advantage  by 
the  ruddy  glare  of  the  blazing  logs. 

"  Let  Besha  tell  my  brother  he  is  welcome," 
said  the  old  chief,  cautiously;  "and  let  him  in- 
quire whence  fie  comes,  and  what  he  has  to 
say." 

"Mahega  is  come,"  replied  the  proud  Osage, 
"  from  a  visit  to  the  pale-faces  ?nd  the  Lenape 
women.  His  hands  are  not  empty;  the  shirt, 
the  leggins,  the  belt,  the  head-dress,  and  the 
norse  of  a  white  hunter  he  has  brought  as  <i 
present  to  the  Uj'  iroka  chief.  If  White-Bull 
will  receive  the  Mcdicinc-tccapon,*  the  heart  of 
Mahega  will  be  glad." 

White-Bull  and  his  father  accepted  the  ofler- 
ed  presents  with  every  demonstration  of  satis- 
faction. The  latter,  again  addressing  Besha, 
desired  him  thus  to  speak : 

"  Mahega  forgets  that  all  his  goods  are  in  the 
hands  of  his  enemies — does  he  keep  nothing  (or 
himselfr' 

The  Osage  made  no  reply,  but  drawing  the 
recent  scalp  from  his  belt,  and  pointing  to  it,  the 
knile  still  red  with  human  blood,  he  smiled 
scornfully,  and  strode  'hroxigh  the  camp  back 
to  his  own  lodge.  His  purpose  was  effected ; 
he  had  succeeded  in  his  daring  exploit,  and,  al- 
though uncertain  of  the  result  of  the  shot  fired 
at  Reginald,  he  had  regained  some  of  his  influ- 
ence over  the  Upsaroka  chief  and  his  intract- 
able son.  Mahega  pondered  over  these  lhiiig>~ 
in  his  lo<lge,  as  he  mechanically  attached  the 
scalp  of  his  last-killed  foe  to  a  thong,  on  which 
were  already  fastened  many  similar  trophies  of 
his  former  prowess. 

His  musings  were  soon  disturbed  by  the  voi?e 
of  Besha,  who  entered  the  lodge,  bearing  a  sack 
of  considerable  dimensions,  which  he  deposited 
upon  the  ground.  "  Mahdga  is  a  great  war- 
rior," said  he,  greeting  the  Osage  with  some- 
thing of  the  reluctant  courtesy  which  a  terrier 
shows  to  a  mastiff;  "  his  name  will  be  heard  far 
among  the  tribes  of  the  Upsaroka  nation.  The 
Great  Chief  wishes  to  make  his  Washashe 
brother  a  present:  three  horses  stand  without 
the  lodge  to  carry  the  followers  of  Mnhfga  on 
the  path  of  the  bisoli,  or  of  the  Lenape." 

The  eye  of  the  chief  brightened  with  fierce 
pleasure  at  this  announcement,  as  two  of  his 
few  remaining  men  were  unhorsed,  and  he  satis- 
fied himself,  by  going  to  the  door  of  the  lodge. 


row  camp  in 


*  At  the  d«(e  of  this  tnl«  the  )isb  of  firp-arins  was  wry 
little  kiinwii  nmung  thn  tribes  in  the  iieifrlilinurhiKKl  of  the 
Riwky  Mountains  ;  iind  in  most  of  their  Idiigunf^es,  to  this 
day,  the  words  by  whirh  they  express  "a  rifle"  siijnify, 
usiinlly,  '  medicine-weapon,"  "  wonderful  fire-weapon," 
"  fite-tube,"  dec,  dec. 


that  the  horses  now  presented  to  him  were  good 
and  tit  lor  service. 

"  That  is  not  all,"  continued  the  horse-dealer; 
'•White-Bull  knows  that  the  medicine-weapon 
cnnnot  live  withuui  food;  he  has  ^ent  me  to  of- 
lier  this  bag  to  Mahega." 

As  he  spoke  Besha  opened  the  sack,  and  ex- 
posed 10  the  view  of  the  Osage  powder  and  lead 
.-ullicient  lor  fifty  or  sixty  shots,  and  half  a 
dozen  pair  of  strong  moccasins,  such  as  are 
made  by  the  Crow  women  lor  their  lords. 

"  The  hand  of  the  Upsaroka  is  open,"  said 
Mahega;  "tell  him  that  his  gifts  shall  not  fall 
upon  the  ground ;  the  lead  shall  be  buried  iu 
the  hearts  of  his  enemies." 

Besha,  having  given  to  the  chief  a  few  brief 
explanations  of  (he  hour  and  the  arrangements 
fixed  lor  the  night-march,  withdrew,  and  lelt 
him  to  communicate  them  to  his  followers. 

We  must  now  return  to  Reginald  Brandon, 
whom  we  left  engaged  in  the  disagreeable  and 
perilous  task  of  pursuing  an  unseen  enemy 
down  the  slope  of  a  sleep  hill  in  the  dark.    His 
was  not,  however,  a  foot  or  a  heart  likely  to 
fail  him  in  such  an  emergency,  and,  reckless 
alike  of  obstacles  or  of  the  diiBculties  in  his 
path,  he  continued  his  rapid  descent,  and  soon 
I'uund  himself  among  the  glades  and  bushes 
whence  the  firing  had  aroused  his  attention. 
Advancing  with  his  drawn  cutlass  still  in  his 
hand,  he  stumbled  over  something,  which  be 
found  to  be  the  prostrate  form  of  a  man,  and  in 
whom  he  recognised,  by  his  dress,  one  of  his 
own  parly.    Finding  that  he  could  extract  from 
him  nothing  but  broken  and  muttered  sentences 
about  "  the  devil"  and  "  the  darkness,"  he  hast- 
ened on  until  he  reached  a  spot  where  he  heard 
several  voices  in  earnest  conversation  ;   these 
he  found  to  be  War-Eagle,  Wingenund,  and 
Baptiste ;  and  he  soon  gathered  from  the  latter 
all  that  he  had  to  tell,  which  was,  that  having 
suddenly  heard  the  crack  of  a  rifle  in  the  camp, 
and  then  a  man  rushing  through  the  bushes  in 
descending  the  hill,  he  had  thrown  himself  in 
the  way  of  the  stranger,  who,  after  nearly  blind- 
ing hirh  by  the  discharge  of  a  pisiol  in  his  face, 
had  darted  past  him  into  the  thicket  below.    "I 
fired  after  him,"  continued  the  honest  Guide, 
"both  pislol  and  rifle,  but  I  scarcely  think  I  hit 
him,  for,  on  reaching  the  edge  of  the  timber,  I 
could  just  distinguish  a  horseman  crossing  the 
prairie  at  full  speed  to  the  Crow  camp;  'tis  a 
bad  business,  but  I  fear  there  is  worse  yet  be- 
hind " 
"  How  mean  you  1"  inquired  Reginald. 
"Why,  I   fear  some  foul  play  in  our  own 
camp ;  the  fellow  who  shot  the  pistol  at  me  was 
one  of  our  party." 

"  Impossible  1"  said  Reginald  j  "  I  will  not  be- 
lieve it," 

"  Neither  would  I,  If  I  could  hefp  it,"  replied 
the  Guide ;  "  but  dark  as  it  was,  I  could  plainly 
see  the  fur-cap  and  elk-shirt  upon  him ;  whitv 
er  it  was,  he  Joined  Mahega  on  the  prairie,  for 
the  Washashe  shouted  his  cursed  warwhoop 
aloud  to  insult  u%." 

Wingenund  here  whispered  a  few  words  to 
War-Eagle,  who  replied,  "Right,  my  young 
brother,  let  us  visit  the  posts  and  the  fires,  we 
shall  soon  lee  who  is  missing." 

While  the  chief,  with  the  aid  of  Pierre  and 
Bapiiste,  undertook  this  task,  Reginald  returned, 
accompanied  by  Wingenund,  to  the  spot  where 
he  had  stumbled  over  the  wounded  man.  They 
found  him  seated  in  the  same  place,  but  his 


104 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


Mtises  had  r.?iiimcil,  and  with  the  exce))tion  of 
the  severe  bnli^us  im  the  head,  they  were  glad 
to  learn  (hat  lie  wsts  uninjured  Jle  could  give 
no  account  of  what  had  passed  iurthcr  than  that 
already  given  by  Baptiste.  He  had  been  pros- 
trated and  stunned  by  a  heavy  blo'v  from  some 
one  descending-  the  hill  with  great  rapidity  ;  he 
also  stated  his  impression  that  he  had  distin- 
guished the  dress  of  a  while  hunter. 

The  result  of  the  investigation  may  of  course 
be  anticipated;  the  unfortunatt-  owner  of  the 
wolf-sl;in  cap  was  suspected  of  having  plotted 
yfith  Mahiga,  and  (alter  -aiding  him  in  an  at- 
tempt to  murder  Reginald)  of  having  gone  off 
with  one  of  the  be;it  boises  to  the  Crow  camp. 
Such  was  the  conjecture  of  some,  i.nd  if  there 
were  others  who  guessed  more  nearly  at  the 
truth,  their  opinions  were  for  the  present  re- 
served ;  it  being,  however,  impossible  to  make 
farther  inquiry  until  daylight,  the  different  pat- 
ties retired  to  their  respective  quarters,  ana  Re- 
ginald again  sought  the  tent  to  give  to  Prairie- 
bird  an  account  of  what  had  passed,  and  to  as- 
sure her  of  his  safe  rtpun.  At  the  first  sound 
tff  his  voice  she  came  >brlh,  and  listened  with 
breathless  attention  to  his  brief  narration.  The 
watch-fire  h^a  been  fed  wi^h  fresh  fuel,  and  its 
light  falling  upon  her  countenance,  enabled  her 
lover  to  see  ihe  intense  anxiety  which  it  express- 
ed ;  a  handkerchi!?!',  hastily  folded  like  a  turban, 
•overed  her  head,  and  a  dark  Mexican  manile 
■was  throvn  "''lt  her  shouldora  |  hor  hand  trem- 
bled in  his,  and  a  slight  shud^^»r  |'>u?.$ed  through 
her  frame  as  he  mentioned  i' .:  name  of  Ma- 
h^ga. 

"  Nay,  dearest,"  said  Reginald,  "  I  vhnW  ^  rieve 
indeed,  if  the  name  of  that  hateful  ■;ivni;i'  h:th 
power  so  to  move  and  disturb  your  \  v;.'  j  Fear 
Jiira  not:  believe  me,  we  fshall  y<?t  dj'eat  all 
his  attempts,  whether  of  iiidden  iraad  or  open 
force." 

"  There  is  no  room,  dear  Reginald,  for  thoughts 
of  fear  for  the  future  in  my  heart,  'tis  already 
ftill,  too  full,  of  gratitude  for  the  past;  you  are 
again  by  my  side,  safi?  and  unhurt.  Yet,  rae- 
;hinks,  I  am  sadly  ciiunged  of  late !  A  short 
iifiie  since,  the  report  of  the  rifle,  the  arrow's 
hiSH;/!!»  path,  brought  no  trrror  to  my  ear,  and 
Bow  1  tremble  when  I  hear  them  I ,  Will  you 
Bot  reeiet  having  chosen  a  coward  for  your 
bride  T' 

"Perhaps  I  may," said  Reginald,  "when  the 
thirsty  sui;;mer-grass  regrets  being  moistened 
by  the  dew  ot  heaven  ;  when  the  watchful  moth- 
er regrets  that  sne  has  borne  the  infant  by  whose 
cradle  she  is  sealed;  when  the  miser  regrets 
having  discovered  an  unsuspected  treasure ;  and 
the  weary  traveller  regrets  having  found  a  fresh 
sprin}^-  amid  the  burning  sands  of  the  desert ; 
tlien  may  I  perhaps  regret  having  chosen  Prai- 
lie^bird  to  be  to  my  thirsting  heart  its  sgmmer- 
dfw,  its  firstling,  its  treasure,  its  foantaiti  of  ex- 
haustlcss  joy  and  love  I" 

Although  it  was  not  the  first  time  that  she  had 
received  the  assurance  of  his  affection,  her  ear 
drank  It  in  with  delight;  the  repetitions  of  Love 
have  for  his  votaries  perpetual  freshness  and 
variety. 

"  How  silver-sweet  sound  lovers'  tongues  by  night  I" 

So  says  one  of  the  fairest  creations  of  the 
Great  interpreter  of  human  passion ;  yet  it  is 
only  to  each  other  that  these  voices  do  so  sweet- 
ly «ound ;  to  others  less  interested,  their  par- 
lance is  apt  to  seem  dull  and  monotonous. 


Neither  would  a  dinner  of  honey  or  Ouava  jel> 
Iv  alone  be  more  nausec  <  and  disappointing  to 
ttie  appetite  of  a  hungi^  man  than  a  volume 
filled  with  love-letters,  or  love-speeches,  to  one 
in  search  of  literary  food.  Duly  impressed  with 
ili.s  truth,  we  will  spare  any  further  detail  of 
lut  conversation  that  passed  between  Regi- 
niiiJ  and  his  betrothed,  and  will  content  our- 
selves with  relating  that,  after  more  than  one 
"  Good-night !"  such  as  only  lovers  know,  Prai- 
rie-hird  retired  into  her  lent,  with  her  thoughts 
so  absorbed  in  one  object  that  she  was  scarcely 
conscious  of  the  affectionate  attentions  of  her 
faithful  l.ita,  6t  of  the  watchful  care  of  young 
Wingenund,  who  took  his  accustomed  siiiiiou 
ru  the  entrance  to  the  outer  division  of  hti.  sis< 
.'.i;r's  canva.ss  dwelling. 

An  hour  before  the  dawn  the  wakeful  yonti> 
aru.se  and  looked  abroad  ;  the  pale  and  '.■?.- pirin,; 
fires  of  the  opposite  camp  were  still  d;^■lincl'.yr 
visible;  but  his  praci.i:ied  eat'  missed  th<'  ir>uaj 
souiids  of  Indian  life— the  hum  of  men,  ihv  cries 
of  thildren,  and  the  hi;rking  ol"  curs.  H.i'ing 
learned  the  use  of  l!e{!;inald's  spyglass,  he  !;  ok 
it  down  from  the  pe^  on  which  it  w.^s  suspend- 
ed, and  examined  th'.  opposite  hill.  As  the 
light  of  d.iy  gradually  advanced,  and  objects  be- 
came more  easily  distinguishable,  his  suspicions 
became  confirmed,  and  he  rescl/ed  no  conger  to 
delay  comi>.unicaticg  th:.'i,n  to  War-li.tgle.  He 
found  the  chief  seated  at  the  door  of  bi.s  lodj^e. 
in  an  attitude  which  he  at  J>rst  iriistook  .'or 
slumber,  but  it  proved  to  be  one  of  di'sp  mediia- 
tion  :  for,  <>n  the  youth's  approaoli  he  li.oked  up, 
and  -taid,  in  the  gentle  tone  in  which  he  always 
aii.lri'ssed  his  beloved  brother, 

"Wingenund  is  a-foot  before  the  sun;  have 
his  ears  or  eyes  been  open  during  the  night  T' 

"  Thev  have,"  snid  the  youth,  gravely ;  "  and 
the  words  that  he  brings  to  his  brother  are  not 
good." 

"  The  Wolfcar,  hunter  is  gone  to  ihe  Upsa- 
roka  camp;  that  is  bad  news;  i&  there  any 
worse  V 

"Wingenund  knows  nothing  of  the  Wdlf-cap 
hunter ;  but  the  Upsaroka  camp  is  like  the  vil- 
lage of  the  Lenap^  on  the  prairies  of  the  east ; 
there  remains  in  it  neither  man,  nor  woman, 
nor  child!" 

War-Eagle  sprang  upon  his  feet,  and  hastily 
desiring  Wingenund  to  summon  Reginald,  Bap- 
tiste, and  Pierre  to  council,  he  descended  the 
hill  to  the  spot  where  his  horses  were  fastened, 
and  throwing  himself  upon  the  back  of  the 
swiftest,  he  galloped  at  full  speed  towards  the 
opposite  camp.  As  he  approached  it,  he  began 
to  suspect  that  its  apparent  desertion  might  be 
only  a  manoeuvre  to  draw  his  party  into  an  am- 
bush, wherefore  he  wheeled  his  horse  and  made 
a  circuit  round  the  base  of  the  hill,  at  such  a 
distance  as  lo  be  secure  from  the  arrow  or  ball 
of  any  marksman  hidden  among  (he  bushes. 
As  he  giiinnd  a  spot  whence  the  expanse  of  prai- 
rie was  open  lo  his  view  towards  the  south-west, 
he  saw  a  body  of  horsemen  retreating  rapidly  in 
that  direction  ;  thev  were  already  several  miles 
from  the  camp,  and  he  rightly  conjectured  them 
to  be  the  rear-guard  of  the  retiring  enemy. 

The  main-body  had  marched  early  in  the 
night,  and  only  a  score  nfthe  best  mounted  had 
been  left  to  walk  up  and  down  by  the  fires,  to 
talk  aloud,  and  thus  to  prevent  any  suspicion 
of  their  movements  from  entering  the  Delaware 
camp. 

Vexed  and  disappointed,  the  chief  returned  to 


! 


THE  PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


16S 


ief  returned  to 


his  party,  which  he  found  in  confusion  and  dis- 
may, from  their  having  just  discovered  the  body 
of  the  unfortunate  Wolf-cap  hunter,  one  of  his 
companions  having  visitea  the  valley  before 
mentioned,  in  search  of  the  missing  horse  and 
larveite  I 

The  mystery  was  now  cleared  up,  and  the 
truth  flashed  upon  them  that  Mahfga,  dressed 
in  the  clothes  of  their  slain  comrade,  had  ac- 
tually come  within  their  posts,  and,  alter  a  de- 
liberaie  attempt  to  shoot  Reginald,  had  singed 
tlie  beard  of  Baptisle,  knocked  down  another  of 
their  party,  stolen  one  of  their  best  horses,  and 
escaped  in  triumph  to  his  camp! 

It  may  well  be  imagined  how  such  a  compli- 
cation of  injury  and  insult  aggravated  the  haired 
v/iiich  isjoy  already  entertained  towards  ihe 
Osage.  Yet  were  there  many  among  the  rough 
andhfifdy  men  present,  who  could  not  prevent 
i'eelinc  r.  ..  rret  admiration  of  his  daiing  and 
::".:;cei-.sujl  e\;ioit. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

Win(fen:i;id  v  vi«e»  a  Plan  for  the  Liberation  of  his  Fricnili, 
ani  '.ftk')  t  ihtain  by  Means  equally  unusual  and  efftot- 
ivf  ihe  Ce  iiperntion  of  the  one-eyocl  Horse-denlBr.— A 
'  ■rti'tr  Mari'h  into  the  Mountains. — Wingenund  pays  a 
\'\i\l  to  his  Friends,  and  the  Latter  make  aciiiiaiutnnee 
Willi  a  stfauge  Character. 

It  \i-:.s  about  a  week  after  the  events  related 
in  the  preceding  chapter,  that,  in  a  deep  roman- 
tic glen,  apparently  locked  in  by  impassable 
mountains,  there  sate  a  hunter  busily  engaged 
in  changing  the  flint  of  his  rifle,  it  having  just 
missed  fire,  and  thereby  lost  him  a  fine  chance 
of  killing  a  bighorn,  or  mountain  sheep;  his 
countenance  expressed  little  of  the  disappoint- 
ment which  would  have  been  felt  by  a  younger 
man  on  such  an  occasion,  and  its  harsh,  coarse 
features  would  have  led  any  observer  to  believe 
that  their  possessor  was  habituated  to  occupa- 
tions less  generous  and  harmless  than  those  of 
the  chase. 

As  he  fixed  a  fresh  flint  into  the  lock  of  his 
rifle,  he  hummed,  or  rather  grunted,  in  a  low 
tone,  a  kind  of  chaunt,  which  was  a  mixture  of 
hdlfa  score  different  tunes,  and  as  many  various 
dialects,  but  from  the  careless  deliberation  with 
whieh  he  went  on  with  his  work,  it  was  easy  to 
perceive  that  his  mind  was  o>lherwise  occupied. 

Whatever  might  have  been  his  reflections,  they 
were  suddenly  interrupted  by  a  hand  laid  upon 
his  shoulder,  which  made  him  start  as  if  he  nad 
been  stung  by  a  serpent.  Springing  to  his  feet, 
and  instinctively  dropping  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle 
to  the  breast  of  his  unexpected  visitor,  he  ex- 
claimed, after  a  momentary  pause,  "  Does  Win- 
genund  come  as  a  friend  or  an  enemy  1" 

"  Neither,"  replied  the  vouth,  scornfully. 
"Wingenund  has  no  frienrfship  for  a  forked 
tongue;  and  if  he  had  come  as  an  enemy,  Besha 
would  not  now  have  been  alive  to  ask  the  ques- 
tion ;  'twas  as  easy  to  shoot  him  as  to  touch  his 
shouJder." 

"For  what  then  is  he  cornel"  inquired  the 
horse-dealer,  who,  although  somewhat  abashed 
at  this  reproof,  was  not  disposed  to  endure  the 
tone  of  superiority  assumed  towards  him  by  the 
yonne  Delawjire. 

"  He  is  come  to  speak  to  Besha,  and  then  to 
return ;  this  is  not  a  place  to  throw  away  words 
and  lime." 


"  Indeed  it  is  not,  for  Wingenund  knows  that 
his  enemies  are  within  hearing  of  a  rifle  shot." 
"  There  may  be  other  rifles  nearer  than  Besha 
thinks,"  replied  the  youth  drily.  "  Wingenund 
IS  not  a  bird ;  wherever  he  goes  friends  can  IbU 
low  him." 

The  horse-dealer  cast  an  uneasy  glance 
around,  and  muttered  half  aloud,  "  If  Winge- 
nund is  not  a  bird,  I  know  not  how  he  came  to 
this  place  unseen  by  the  Upsaroka  scouts,  who 
are  abroad  in  every  quarter  V 

To  this  Wingenund  deigned  no  reply,  but  en- 
tered at  once  upon  the  business  upon  which  he 
had  come.  As  he  explained  his  proposal  the 
single  eye  of  his  auditor  seemed  to  dilate  with 
unfeigned  astonishment,  and  at  its  conclusion  be 
shook  his  head,  saying,  "It  cannot  be!  the  mad 
spirit  has  entered  my  young  brother's  head. 
Besha  would  do  much  to  serve  his  friends,  but 
this  would  hold  a  knife  to  (he  cord  of  his  owa 
life !" 

"The  knife  is  there  already,"  said  the  youth, 
sternly;  "Besha  has  told  lies  lo  Neiis  and  to 
War-Eagle,  and  unless  he  makes  good  his  first 
words,  their  knife  or  bullet  shall  find  him  on  the 
mountam  or  in  the  wood,  or  ia  the  midst  of  the 
Up.^aroka  camp." 

For  an  instant  Besha  was  tempted  to  rush  upoa 
the  bold  speaker  and  trust  the  issue  lo  his  supe- 
rior strength,  but  ihe  quiet  eye  of  the  young  Dela- 
ware was  fixed  upon  him  with  an  expression  so 
fearless  and  resolved,  that  he  involuntarily  quail- 
ed before  it,  and  as  he  was  endeavouring  to 
frame  some  further  excuse,  the  youth  continued 
in  a  tone  of  voice  less  stem,  "  Let  Besha's  ears 
be  open,  it  is  not  yet  too  late ;  if  he  chooses  to 
be  friends  with  Nells,  Wingenund  can  tell  him 
some  news  that  will  be  good  fbr  the  persoa 
whom  he  loves  best." 

"  And  who  may  that  be  1"  said  the  horse-deal- 
er, doubtless  surprised  at  the  youth's  pretending 
to  a  knowledge  of  his  afleclions. 

"  Himself,"  was  the  brief  reply. 

The  horse-dealei's  eye  twinkled  with  a  comic 
expression,  and  a  broad  grin  sat  upon  his  coun- 
tenance. "Supposing  that  my  young  brother's 
words  are  true,  what  is  the  good  news  that  he 
has  to  tell  V 

"  If  the  white  prisoners  are  given  back  unhurt 
lo  their  friends,  the  lodge  of  Besha  shall  be  more 
full  of  gifts  than  any  lodge  on  the  banks  of  the 
great  southern  river;*  if  not,  the  mountain  wolves 
shall  gnaw  his  bones  before  Ae  change  of  an- 
other moon :  let  him  choose  for  himself" 

"My  biother's  words  are  big,"  replied  the 
horse-dealer,  striving  to  overcome  the  eflfect  pro- 
duced upon  him  by  the  threat  of  the  Delaware 
youth.  "  The  tongues  of  women  are  very  brave; 
if  the  Washashe  tell  the  truth,  not  many  sum- 
mers have  passed  sinze  the  Lenap^  were  a  wom- 
an-people '' 

■The  blood  of  the  young  chief  boiled  within 
him  at  this  insulting  allusion  lo  an  era  in  the 
history  of  his  tribe  which  has  glready  been  ex- 
plained to  the  reader,  and  had  he  followed  his 
first  fierce  impulse  he  would  have  instantly 
avenged  the  affront  in  the  blood  of  the  sneaker, 
but  he  never  lost  sight  of  the  object  for  wnich  he 
had  so  long  sought  an  interview  with  the  horse- 
dealer,  wherefore  he  controlled  his  risir  g  pas- 
sion, and  replied,  "Wingenund  comes  with  this 
tness;igp  from  those  who  not  mpny  -'-y:  -go 
drove  the  Washashe  and  the  Upsaroka  from 


il 


,^i  f 


*  The  Aikunsas 


166 


T  H  E   P 11  A I  HI  K  -  B  I  U  D. 


llirir  strong  camp:  Besha  niny  juilge  wlietlit-r 
ihey  aro  women  or  warriois." 

Tlic  li()r>e-ilenler  leli,  il  he  liiil  not  ovin,  llie 
jiisticu  ol'  the  reproul';  lie  knew  also  that  llie 
greater  portion  ol  the  coveleil  goiicio  were  in  tlie 
poHvesNioii  ol'  \Var-liiif,'le'.s  puiiy,  and  lie  was 
willing  enou;;li  to  coneiliaie  ilieiii,  proviilcd  tie 
couM  ensure  a  sale  retreat  Ironi  tlie  aiifjer  ol' the 
Crows,  in  the  event  of  his  intrigue  being  discov- 
ered by  liiein. 

Moved  by  ihcse  considerations,  he  said,  in  an 
un<lecided  lone,  "My  young  brother  must  not 
forget  that  the  edge  oi'  the  knife  is  on  the  cord  of 
his  iifo  ;  if  Besha  agrees  lo  his  proposal,  and  the 
Crows  discover  him,  he  «vill  be  loin  iu  pieces 
like  a  wounded  elk  among  wilves." 

"  The  lili;  of  VVingenuad  is  like  the  breath  of 
the  mountain  breeze,"  answered  the  youth;  "it  is 
in  ihc  hands  uf  the  Great  Hpirit,  to  move  and 
tsend  it  whither  he  pleases.  Let  Besha  laste  this 
black  water,"  he  added,  dravving  fioin  his  belt  a 
small  bottle,  "  it  is  very  wonderful." 

The  horse-dealer  took  the  phial,  which  con- 
tained '1  strong,  and  not  very  palatable  mixture, 
which  had  been  borrowed  by  Wingenund  from 
his  sister's  ciiest  of  medicine;  but  he  declined 
tasting  it,  shaking  his  head  in  a  manner  that 
gave  the  youth  to  understand  that  he  suspected 
something  of  a  hurtful  or  poisonous  nature. 

"  Let  not  Besha  be  afraid,"  said  the  youth, 
scornfully;  "  the  tomahawk  and  the  rifle  are  the 
death-weapons  of  the  Lenape,  they  war  not  with 
bad-waters  I"  and  as  he  spoke  he  drank  a  portion 
of  the  dark  and  distastelul  liquid. 

It  would  now  have  been  held,  according  to  In- 
dian custom,  an  act  of  unpardonable  cowardice 
in  Besha  had  he  any  longer  hesitated  to  taste 
the  pledge,  and  whatever  doubts  or  scruples  he 
might  in  secret  have  entertained,  he  concealed 
them,  and  drank  off  the  remaining  contents  of 
the  phial. 

As  soon  as  he  had  swallowed  them,  the  youth, 
pointing  up  to  the  sky,  said,  with  much  solemni- 
ty, "  Now  Wingenund  and  Besha  are  before  the 
Great  Spirit,  and  they  must  bewar^  ^vbat  thev 
do.  This  dark-water  was  given  into  their  hands 
by  the  Medicine  of  the  white  tent;  it  i^madeup 
by  Prairie-bird  I'rom  a  thousand  unknown  herbs ; 
it  is  harmless  to  the  good,  Jiut  it  is  poison  to  the 
forked  tongue !  Has  Besha  ever  heard  of  the  sick- 
ness which  makes  the  skin  like  a  honey-comb; 
which  spares  neither  woman,  warrior,  nor  child; 
and  in  the  cours^of  half  a  moon  turns  a  power- 
ful tribe  into  a  feeble  and  exhausted  band  T" 

"  He  /las  heard  of  it,"  replied  the  horse-dealer, 
trembling  from  head  to  foot  at  this  allusion  to 
that  fell  ilisease,*  which  had  already  began  its 
fearful  ravages  among  the  Indian  nations,  and 
has  since  fulfilled  to  the  very  letter  the  descrip- 
tion given  of  it  by  the  Delaware  youth.  Its  ori- 
gin and  causes  were  unknown,  its  cure  beyond 
their  skill ;  it  is  not  therefore  lo  be  wondered  at 
if  Ihey  looked  upon  it  with  a  mysterious  dread. 

'•  Yes,"  continued  Wingenund,  "if  truth  is  on 
the  lips  and  in  the  heart  of  Besha,  the  medicine- 
water  will  be  good  for  him  and  make  him  strong. 
3  If  he  thinks  of  falsehood,  and  lies  spring  up  in 
his  heart,  but  he  overcomes  the  bad  spirit  within, 
xnd  treads  it  under  his  loot,  then  will  the  medi- 
cine-water give  him  pain  for  a  stiort  time,  but  he 
will  recover  and  be  stronger  than  before;  and  if 
hi  ■  lip^;  and  lieart  continue  fall  of  'deceit,  diseases 
and  sores  shall  come  so  thicK  upon  his  skin  that 

*  Siuall-pu.x 


he  shall  die  among  these  rocks,  the  hungry  wolf 
mill  tlie  linkc^-buzxurd  shall  refuse  locoinencar 
llie  pidtiiied  earcase." 

Such,  or  nearly  such,  was  the  warning  threat 
wliieh  the  youih  held  Ibrtli  in  the  b(dd  und  fi<r. 
iiialive  liinitiiiige  of  liis  tribe;  and  althoui^li  Be- 
.slia  eoulil  not  wiili  jusiice  be  called  a  eowaid, 
and  was  superior  to  in-.nyof  the  supersijiiunsut 
llic  Indian  nations,  siiil  iie  had  heard  siieh  well- 
auilientieateil  accounts  of  the  miraculous  power 
1)1  llie  Great  Medicine  ol  the  tent,  that  the  W(jrds 
uf  Wingenund  produced  all,  and  more  than  all, 
the  ell'eel  he  had  anticipated. 

"  It  shall  be  done,"  said  Besha,  in  a  subdued\ 
tone;  "lei  Wingenund  tell  Oliiipa  that  the  lips  ^ 
and  ihe  heart  ol  her  friend  will  be  true,  and  let' 
him  desire  her  to  speak  to  the  Great  Spirit,  that 
the  medicine-water  may  not  hurl  him.  Besha 
will  be  true;  if  the  Crows  discover  and  kill 
Wingenund,  the  hands  of  Besha  bhall  be  clear 
of  his  blood." 

"  Lettthe  words  of  Wingenund  remain  in  Be- 
sha'sears;  let  his  tongue  and  his  path  be  straight, 
and  the  hearts  and  hands  of  the  Lenape  will  be 
open  to  him.  At  two  hours  alter  nightfall* 
Wingenund  will  be  here  again." 

So  snjing,  Ihe  youth  turned,  and  darting 
through  some  low  bushes,  clambered  up  the 
steep  and  rocky  bed  ui  a  mountain-torrent  with 
the  activity  of  a  mountain-cat. 

Besha  i'ollowed  with  his  eyes  the  light  form  of 
the  yciing  Delaware,  imtil  il  disappeared  behind 
a  tail  dirt"  that  projected  so  far  across  the  nai  row 
gorge  as  completely  to  hide  its  existence  from 
the  observation  of  any  one  traversing  the  valley, 
while  its  rugged  and  precipitous  front  might  have 
deterred  the  boldest  nunler  from  attempting  the 
passage.  The  horse-dealer  then  shouldered  his 
rifle,  and  returned  slowly  to  the  Crow  campj 
distant  about  a  mile,  revolving  as  he  went  along 
various  schemes  for  ensuring  the  gratitude  of 
the  Delawares,  without  forfeiting  the  friendship 
of  those  with  whom  he  was  now  allied. 

Wingenund  had  rightly  estimated  the  probable 
nature  and  quality  of  his  reflections,  and  sundry 
sharp  twitches  which  he  fell  in  his  stomach 
served  to  remind  him  of  the  dangerous  liquid 
which  it  contained.  Warned  by  these  sensa- 
tions, he  made  up  his  mind  to  obey  the  Great 
Medicine  of  ihe  tent,  and  /or  the  present,  at  least, 
to  be  faiihful  to  the  promise  made  to  Wingenund. 

The  Delaware  youth  pursued  his  way  up  the 
rough  and  craggy" gorge  until  he  reached  a  cave 
that  he  had  noticed  on  his  descent  as  likely  to 
afford  shelter  and  a  secure  retreat.  Here  he 
stopped;  and  ensconcing  himself  in  a  dark  ',<!- 
cess,  whence  he  could,  without  being  himself 
discovered,  see  any  one  passing  before  the  aper- 
ture, he  threw  himself  on  the  ground,  and  draw- 
ing from  his  belt  a  few  slices  of  dried  bison- 
meat,  he  made  bis  frugal  meal,  and  quenched 
his  thirst  from  a  streamlet  that  trickled  down  ihe 
face  of  the  rock  behind  him.  While  rfl'^ting  him- 
self, he  indulged  in  hopes  and  reveries  suited  tc- 
his  enthusiastic  nature;  he  w.is  now  engaged 


*  It  has  twforn  'leen  mentioned  tli:it  the  division  nnJ  no 
tation  of  time  vary  extremely  in  the  Imli.-in  tnhi-s ;  those 
who  have  had  much  conimerca  with  the  Whiles  haveroin- 
nd  words  answerini;  to  whit  we  denominate  hours;  but  the 
liUii'S  of  the  Far-WRsterii  prairies  usually  express  the  suc- 
cessive periods  of  the  night  by  restiiii^  the  cheek  upon  the 
haiid  in  a  recumbent  posture,  and  then,  holding  up  the  fore- 
finger and  thumb  in  the  form  of  a  crescent,  thoy  shew,  by 
the  number  of  motions  which  they  niakn  in  pointini;  to  ihe 
sky,  the  number  of  hours  or  watches  after  nightfall  which 
they  wish  to  indicate. 


. 


I    IrtI 


THE  P  R  A  I R I  K  -  B I  «  D. 


hehungfrywol/ 
ic  lo  coitif  near 

wainiti!,'  Hireai 
e  Ujld  iiiiii  n„. 
iillhouiiliUe. 
lied  a  coward, 
siipcrsiiiiuiisol 
BJird  siifh  wol|. 
aculuiis  power 
ihnt  ihe  words 
iiwru  ihan  all, 

in  a  subdued 
la  that  the  lips  ' 
e  true,  and  let' 
eat  Spirit,  that 

him.  Besha 
over  and  kill 
aliall  be  clear 

remain  in  Be- 

mth  be  straight, 
.enapc  willbe 
rter   nightfall* 

I,  and  darting 
nbered  up  the 
in-torrent  with 

le  light  form  of 

ppeared  behind 

OSS  the  narrow 

existence  troin 

sing  the  valley, 

ont  might  have 

attempting  the 

shouldered  his 

e  Crow  campj 

I  he  went  along 

he  gratitude  of 

f  the  friendship 

allied. 

;ed  the  probable 
ms,  and  sundry 
1  his  stomach 
ngerous  liquid 
jr  these  sensa- 
abey  the  Great 
resent,  at  knm, 

0  Wingenund. 
his  way  up  the 
reached  a  cave 
nt  as  likely  to 
eat.     Here  he 

in  a  dark  \.:. 
being  himself 
efore  the  aper- 
ind,  and  draw- 
f  dried  bison- 
ind  quenched 
:kled  dovn  ihe 
e  rfl'^tirig  him- 
eries  suited  tc 
now  engaged 

division  nnd  no 
.•>n  tnhi-s  ;  th'isi) 
i-'hiles  h:ivef;ii)ii. 
f^  houre ;  hm  tho 
fxprf'SS  the  sun- 

rheck  upon  iho 
IdiiUfupthofore- 
t,  they  shew,  by 

1  poin'tinit  til  the 
nightfiiU  which 


Wl 


in  an  enterprise  such  as  he  had  often  heard  re- 
curded  jji  ilie  songs  ol  Ihe  Lenapr  warriors;  he 
WHS  about  to  trust  himself  ulonu  in  the  midst  of 
a  hostile  camp,  and  to  risk  his  life  fur  the  liber- 
ation of  his  early  benefactor  and  the  Iriend  of 
his  adopted  brother;  he  felt  the  spirit  of  his  la- 
thers stir  within  his  breast. 

"  If  1  escape,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  they  shall 
escape  with  me;  nndif  Idle,  1  will  not  die  alone, 
and  the  name  of  Wingenund  shall  not  be  fur- 
gotten  among  the  warriors  of  his  tribe." 

In  these  and  similar  meditations  he  beguiled 
the  hours  until  darkness  overspread  the  earth, 
and  the  time  of  the  appointed  rendezvous  drew 
nigh ;  then,  once  more  emerging  from  the  cave, 
he  picked  his  way  cautiously  among  the  rocks, 
and  at  length  found  himself  at  the  spot  where 
he  had  parted  from  Besha.  Having  purposely 
concealed  his  rille  in  the  cave,  he  was  now  arm- 
ed only  with  a  knilie  and  a  small  pistol,  which 
he  carried  in  ,his  belt. 

The  night  was  cold  and  boisterous;  dark 
clouds  hung  around  the  mountain-peaks,  and 
chased  each  uther  in  rapid  succession  over  the 
disc  of  the  moon,  while  a  fitful  gust  of  wind 
swept  down  the  rocky  glens,  whistling  as  they 
passed  among  the  branches  of  Ihe  scathed  pines 
which  were  thinly  scattered  in  that  wild  and 
desolate  region. 

He  had  not  waited  long  when  he  heard  the 
4Sound  of  approaching  footsteps,  and  straining 
his  keen  sight  to  its  utmost  power,  he  recogni- 
sed Besha,  who  came  not  alone,  but  accompa- 
nied by  another  man. 

Although  this  was  an  addition  to  the  compa- 
oy  that  he  did  not  expect,  the  youth  came  fear- 
«ssly  forward,  hjs  quick  apprehension  suggest- 
ing to  him  that  if  treachery  had  been  intended 
Jje  horse-dealer's  companion  would  have  been 
joncealed.  After  exchanging  a  sign  of  recog- 
Oitio  Wingenund  led  the  way  to  a  deep  recess 
whi<  .  he  had  noted  in  a  rock  at  no  great  dis- 
tance, where  they  collected  and  kindled  a  lew 
slicks  of  withered  juniper  and  sage,  which  sup- 
plied them  with  warmth  and  light  without  ren- 
'dering  the  place  of  their  colloquy  visible  from 
the  valley  below. 

By  the  light  of  the  fire  Wingenund  observed 
with  surprise  that  the  horse-dealer's  companion, 
a  lad  of  nearly  his  own  size  and  stature,  had  only 
•one  eye,  the  cavity  of  the  other  being  covered 
with  a  patch  of  cloth  ;  his  complexion  was  of  a 
hue  so  swarthy,  that  it  evidently  contained  an 
admixture  of  the  negro  race;  and  his  hair, 
though  not  woolly,* was  coarse,  long,  and  mat- 
ted, differing  entirely  in  its  texture  from  that  of 
the  tribes  of  purely  Indian  blood.  He  was 
-wrapped  in  a  tattered  blanket,  and  stood  apart, 
JiKe  one  conscious  of  his  inferiority  uf  station. 
To  account  lor  his  appearance,  without  enter- 
ing at  length  into  the  explanations  given  by 
the  horse-dea.er  to  Win,^enund,  it  will  be  suffi- 
cient to  state  that  the  latter  had  proposed  to  en- 
,ter  the  Grow  camp  in  a  female  dress,  and  to  find 
an  opportunity,  as  an  inmate  of  his  lodge,  for 
communicating  with  PaufMiiller  and  Ethelston. 

As  soon  as  Besha  once  made  up  his  mind  to 
forward  the  scheme,  he  resolved  to  do  so  with  as 
little  risk  of  discovery  as  possible.  Happening 
to  have  in  his  lodge  a'slave,  a  captive  taken  in  a 
horse-stealing  skirmish  among  ihe  « ■omanches, 
who  was  nearly  the  same  age  as  Wingenund, 
lie  thought  that'  the  youth  might  personate  hiin 
more  easily  than  he  could  imitate  the  gait  and 
appearance  of  a  woman. 


Many  were  the  jokes  among  the  Crows  about 
tlie  one-eyed  Besha,  and  his  one-eyed  slave. 
The  liiiier  had  lost  his  eye  by  the  point  of  an  ar- 
row, in  ilie  same  .skirminh  which  threw  him  into 
Hc>jia',s  power;  and  being  a  cunning  and  dex- 
terous lad,  he  soon  grew  into  favour  with  his 
new  master,  who  frequently  employed  him  as  a 
spy,  and  found  him  extremely  useful  in  stealing, 
marking,  and  disguising  hurses  for  him. 

Wingenund  saw  at  once  the  drift  of  Besha's 
project,  and  they  lust  no  time  in  carrying  it  into 
effect.  The  exchange  of  dress  was  made  in  a 
few  seconds,  and  the  horse-dealer  then  drew  from 
his  pouch  a  small  bladtier  containing  ointment, 
with  which  he  stained  the  youth's  hands  and 
face,  fastening  at  the  same  time  a  patch  over  his 
left  eye.  Wingenund  then  desired  Besha  to  walk 
up  and  down,  and  speak  with  the  lad,  that  he 
might  carefully  note  his  movements,  and  the  in- 
tonation of  his  voice,  Thi-^  iiservation  he  con- 
tinued for  some  time,  uni  ne  thought  himself 
tolerably  pertt-'ct  in  his  lesson.  There  remained, 
however,  one  point  on  which  he  still  lelt  him.self 
very  insecure  against  detection.  On  his  ex- 
plaining this  to  Besha,  the  latter  grinned,  and 
drawing  from  under  his  vest  a  head-dress  of 
false  hair,  ragged  and  matted  as  that  of  his  slave, 
he  placed  it  on  the  head  of  Wingenund.  The 
youth  lelt  his  disguise  was  now  complete;  and 
retaining  his  own  knite  and  small  pistol  in  his 
belt,  threw  the  tattered  blanket  over  his  shoulder, 
and  prepared  to  accompany  Besha  to  his  lodge. 

The  latter  having  instructed  the  slave  to  keep 
h-'  iself  concealed  among  the  rocks  for  a  few 
d'  ;s,  and  having  provided  him  with  a  small  bag 
of  provisions,  returned  slowly  towards  the  Crow 
camp,  giving  to  his  young  companion  by  the 
way  such  hints  as  he  deemed  necessary  for  his 
safety.  Fortunately  for  Wingenund,  the  lad 
whom  he  personated  was  known  by  the  Crows 
to  be  ignorant  of  their  language,  so  there  was  no 
great  risk  of  his  being  betrayed  by  his  speech. 

As  they  picked  their  way  slowly  along  the  base 
of  the  rugged  hills  which  frowned  over  the  val- 
ley,  they  came  to  a  spot  where  a  few  stunted 
pines  threw  a  darker  shadow  across  their  path. 
To  one  of  these  was  attached  a  horse,  which 
Wingenund  unfastened  by  desire  of  Besha,  and 
led  it  after  him  by  the  halter. 

As  they  reached  the  outposts  of  the  camp  PC' 
sha  was  addressed  by  several  of  the  sentrits,  to 
whom  he  explained  his  night  expedition,  by  in- 
forming them  that  he  had  been  with  his  slave  to 
recover  a  horse  that  had  strayed.  They  were 
perfectly  satisfied  with  this  explanation,  it  being 
of  very  frequent  occurrence  that  both  master  and 
man  returned  by  day  and  by  night  with  horses 
that  they  had  "  recovered;"  the  latter  word  being 
in  the  Crow  dialect  almost,  if  not  quite,  synony- 
mous  with  "stolen." 

The  lodge  of  Besha  was  pitched  next  to  that 
of  White-Buir,  in  which  Lthelston  and  Paul 
Miiller  were  confined.  His  entrance  caused  no 
disturbance  among  its  slumbering  inmates;  and 
Wingenund,  fore-armed  with  the  requisite  local 
information,  tied  up  the  horsa  beside  its  fellows; 
and  nestling  himself  into  his  allotted  corner,  laid 
himself  down  to  rest  as  composedly  as  if  he  had 
been  in  his  usual  quarters  in  the  outer  division 
of  his  sister's  tent. 

.  While  Wingenund  was.thus  carrying  his  proj- 
ect into  effect,  his  friends  fnlfilled  the  intention 
they  had  formed  of  marching  further  into  the 
mountains. 

"  Dear  Prairie-bird !"  said  Reginald,  as  they 


V4: 


J' 


ns 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


I 


walked  together  in  fW>nt  of  her  tent,  "  I  Tear  you 
must  be  much  fliligue<^  by  this  last  march.  1 
never  could  have  believed  thai  a  horse,  bearing 
a  female  rider,  could  have  crossed  that  rocky 
pass  by  which  we  entered  thisi  valley." 

"  The  horse  deserves  more  praise  than  the  ri- 
der, Iteginald;  and  Nekimi  seemed  quite  aware 
that  his  master  attached  a  higher  price  to  his 
burtlien  than  it  was  worth,  for  he  put  lii«i  I'eet  so 
xal'ely  and  gently  down,  that  I  need  nut  have 
feared  his  slipping,  even  had  he  not  been  led  by 
one  yet  more  gentle  and  careful  thon  hiiiiNelf." 

"  It  was,  however,  a  severe  trial,  Prairie-bird," 
replied  her  lover;  "for  you  remember  that  Litn's 
mule  stumbled,  and  nearly  lell  with  her  over  thai 
fearful  precipice  I  but  Nekimi  is  unniatciied  for 
speed  and  sureness  of  foot,  and  is  of  so  generous 
and  affectionate  a  nature  that  1  love  him  more 
than  I  ever  thought  I  could  have  loved  a  quad- 
ruped. When  we  return  to  Mooshannc,  he  shaM 
be  repaid  for  all  his  faithful  service ;  warm  sh^ll 
be  hi's  stable,  sod  his  litter,  and  his  beloved  mis- 
tress shall  sometimes  give  him  corn  wiih  her 
own  fair  hand,  in  remembrance  of  these  days  of 
hardships!" 

At  the  mention  of  his  home,  the  cheek  of 
Prairie-bird  coloured  with  an  emotion  which 
that  subject  never  failed  to  excite.  Reginald  ob- 
served it,  and  said  to  her,  in  a  half-jesting  ton?, 
"Confess  now,  dearest,  have  you  not  a  longing 
desire  to  see  thiit  home  of  which  1  have  so  ollen 
spoken  to  you  T' 

"It  appears  to  me  so  like  a  dream,  that  I 
scarcely  dare  let  my  thoughts  dwell  upon  it! 
But  your  sister,  of  whom  Wingenund  told  nie 
so  much,  I  hope  she  will  love  meV 

Reginald  bent  his  dark  eyes  upon  her  counte- 
nance with  nn  expression  that  said,  as  plainly  af. 
words  could  speak  it,  "How  could  any  one  set 
thee,  and  fail  to  love  thee!"  Then  turning  the 
conversation  to  Wingenund,  he  replied,  "Two 
days  have  now  elapsed  since  your  young  brother 
went  upon  his  dangerous  expedition ;  1  begin  to 
feel  most  anxious  for  his  safety," 

"With  grief  I  saw  him  go,  for  even  if  he  suc- 
ceeds in  seeing  and  speaking  with  the  Black  Fa- 
ther, I  cannot  tell  what  advanta,*^  will  come 
from  it." 

"  They  may  perhaps  devite  some  scheme  for 
escape,  and  will  at  all  events  be  comforted  by 
the  assurance  that  their  friends  are  near  and 
watchful.  Three  several  times  on  the  march 
hither  had  we  made  our  plans  for  attacking  the 
camp,  and  rescuing  them,  bu*  the  hateful  Mah6- 
ga  was  always  on  his  guard,  and  had  posted 
himself  in  such  a  manner  that  we  could  not  ap- 
proach without  incurring  severe  loss.  War-Ea- 
gle has  himself  owned  that  the  O^age  has  con- 
ducted this  retreat  with  wonderful  skill.  What 
a  pity  thct  so  great  a  villain  should  possess  such 
high  qualities!" 

"If  he  were  nov  ir.  the  camp  of  the  Crows," 
said  Prairie-bird,  "  my  beloved  father,  and  your 
friend  would  have  been  set  free  long  ago;  cruel- 
ty and  revenge  are  his  pleasures,  and  his  hand  is 
ever  ready  to  shed  blood." 

"  He  will  doubtless  do  all  in  his  power  to  pre- 
vent their  liberation;  and  if  his  malignant  eye 
should  delect  the  presence  of  Wingenund,  he 
would  represent  the  brave  youth  as  a  spy,  and 
urge  the  Crows  to  destroy  him." 

"  I  trust  much  to  Wingenund's  skill,  but  more, 
oh!  how  much  more,  to  the  protection  of  llim, . 
at  whose  word  the  strongest  bars  and  bolts  are  ' 
broken,  and  the  fetters  of  iron  fall  from  the  liwbs  i 
of  the  captive !" 


"  What  a  strength  and  (up».->rt  must  It  he  to 
you,  dearest  Prairie-bird,  thus  Iwtbitually  to  look 
up  to  heaven  amid  all  the  trials  and  troubles  of 
earth !" 

"  How  would  it  be  possible  to  do  otherwise  V 
she  replied,  looking  up  in  his  face  with  an  ez- 

firession  ot  innocent  surprise.  "Can  any  one 
ook  uptm  the  flowers  of  the  prairie,  the  beauty 
of  the  swif\  ar.'.elopc,  the  shade  of  the  valleys, 
the  hills  and  snow-ulad  mountains,  the  sun,  the 
niixjn,  and  the  thousand  thousand  worlds  above, 
and  vet  not  worship  Him  who  fran-.ed  them?" 

"I  grant  you,  dearest,"  he  replied,  "that  no 
reasonable  being  could  consider  those  things 
without  experiencing  the  cuiotions  that  you  de- 
scribe, yet  many,  very  many,  will  not  consider 
them  I  still  fewer  arc  there  who  refer  the  thoughts, 
actions,  and  events  of  da<ly  life  to  an  ever-pres- 
ent, overiuling  Providence."  i 

"  Surely  they  can  never  have  rend  this  book, ' 
!ihe  said,  pointing  to  the  volume  which  was  her 
constant  companion;  "or  they  must  feel  ever 
grateful  for  pa.'t  mercies,  preuent  benefit.'?,  and 
the  ')!ei*sed  promi>es  of  the  tuture  revealed  in  it !" 

Fo<  a  moment  iii>Mnald  cast  his  eyes  upon  the 
ground,  conscience  reminding  him  of  many  oc- 
casions on  wliich  he  h.id  been  led  by  tenipliitiuu 
and  carelessness  to  wancJer  from  those  ordinan- 
ces nnd  precepts  of  r^fligion  which  he  respeo'cd 
and  approved;  nt  length  he  replied,  "True,  my 
beloved,  but  the  human  heart  is  a  treacherous 
guide,  and  orten  beirays  into  errors  which  reason 
and  revelation  would  alike  condemn." 

"  It  may  be  m  among  the  cities  and  crowded 
haunts  of  men,  of  which  1  know  nothing  beyond 
what  I  have  read,  and  what  the  Black  Father 
has  taught  me;  yet  I  cannot  understand  how  a 
loving  heart  can  be,  ir.  such  cases,  a  treacherous 
guide.  Is  it  not  r.weet  to  serve  on«  whom  we 
iove  on  earth,  '.o  think  of  him,  to  bless  him,  to 
follow  where  he  points  the  way,  to  afford  him 
pleasure,  to  fulfil  his  wishes  even  before  they  are 
expressed!  If  such  feelings  be  sweet  and  natu- 
ral towards  one  frail  and  inrperfect  as  ourselves, 
why  should  the  heart  refuse  to  entertain  them  to- 
wards the  one  perliect  Being,  our  ever-present 
Benefactor,  t.'ie  Fountain  of  Love  f" 

Again  Reginald  was  silent,  the  impassioned  el- 
oquence of  her  eyes  told  him  how  her  heart  over- 
flowed with  feelings  but  faintly  shadowed  in  her 
simple  language;  and  he  desired  rather  to  share 
than  to  shake  her  creed.  Why  should  he  tell  her, 
that  in  spite  of  all  the  incentives  of  hope  and 
gratitude,  in  spite  of  all  the  arguments  of  reason 
and  the  truths  of  revelation]  the  great  majority 
of  the  so-called  Christian  world  pursued  their 
daily  course  of  business  or  amusement  as  if  the 
present  were  the  substance  of  life,  and  Etemitv" 
a  dream"?  Reginald  felt  his  own  heart  softened, 
purified,  and  exalted  by  communion  with  the 
gentle  being  at  his  side ;  the  cares  and  troubles  of 
life  might  perhaps  disturb  nt  some  future  time 
the  ruirent  of  her  lot,  but  her  faith  was  built 
upon  a  Hock  that  would  not  be  shaken,  and  lii.s 
spirit  already  sympathizing  with  hers,  experi- 
enced a  new  and  delightful  sensation  of  happiness. 

He  might  have  indulged  longer  in  this  blissful 
reverie,  had  not  his  ear  caught  the  sound  of  an 
approaching  footstep;  he  turned  quickly,  and 
recognising  the  light  form  of  WingenutiO,  ex- 
claimed, -'See,  Prairie-bird,  our  dear  young 
brother  saftlv  rJturned!  May  all  your  other 
hopeful  anticipatioi.s  be  as  happily  reoli/fd! 
Spe.ik,  Win-renund;  let  I's  .,car  how  you  have 
sped  in  your  dilHcult  an('.  dangerous  mission]"! 


^ 


iv 


THE  PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


tm 


Inctead  of  giving  the  youth's  narrative  In  his 
own  words,  vie  will  resume  the  thread  of  his  aio- 
ry  where  wo  \et\  it,  beini;  thus  enabled  to  relate 
various  particulars  which  his  modesty  induced 
him  to  omit. 

At  tlie  first  dawn  of  day  he  looixed  round  the 
horse-dealer's  lodge,  and  made  a  survey  of  its  in- 
mates. In  the  centre  lay  Besha  hiinsclf,  ar  I  by 
his  side  a  squaw  troin  one  of  the  sourhem  triuos, 
who  had  lieen  the  compatiion  of  lii^i  rambles  and 
expeditions  lur  many  years.  Beyurid  them  there 
slept,  or  seemed  to  sleep,  a  youlh,  whose  appear- 
ance indicated  that  he  ubo  belonged  to  a  .south- 
ern clime,  and  that  some  Mexican  blood  ran  in 
his  veins;  liis  features  were  linely  Ibrmed,  his 
complexion  darker  than  that  of  a  northern  Indi- 
an, and  a  .short  mustachio  began  to  shade  his 
up[ier  lip;  his  eyes  were  small,  but  piercing,  and 
black  as  jet,  and  scarcely  was  the  lijrhtsumclent 
to  render  distinguishable  the  obj'Cts  in  the  lodge 
ere  his  quick^aze  fell  upon  Wingcnund,  with  an 
expression  that  convinced  the  lauer  that  the  plot 
had  been  confided  to  him.  These  were  the  only 
inmates  of  the  lod^e,  which  was  tilled  with  vari- 
ous indicaiiuns  ol  its  owner's  success  in  trade, 
!  packages  and  bales  being  piled  therein  to  a  con- 
I  aiderable  height. 

Agreeably  to  the  plan  preconcerted  by  Beslin, 
his  wife  invited  Bending-willow  to  come  to  her 
in  the  course  of  the  inorninjj;  and,  on  her  arri- 
val, set  belbre  her  some  cakes  of  maize,  sweet- 
ened with  sugar,— a  luxury  equally  new  and 
agreeable  to  the  Upsaroka  bride.  Further  civil- 
ities beyond  those  uiterchan/^eablc  by  signs  were 
precluded  between  them,  by  the  circumstance  of 
their  being  each  entirely  ignorant  of  the  other's 
language;  but  the  oll'ering  of  a  string  of  blue 
beads  after  the  cakes  completud  the  triumph  of 
the  hostess  in  the  good  graces  of  her  guest. 

Besha  did  not  lose  this  favourable  opportuni- 
ty for  calling  the  attention  of  the  latter  to  the 
subject  of  the  prisoners,  in  whose  behall'he  ex- 
pressed a  hope  that  she  would  use  her  best  ex- 
ertions. 

Bending-willow  smiled,  and  said  that  she  was 
a  woman,  and  had  no  power  in  the  council  of 
the  tribe. 

The  crafty  horse-dealer  saw  at  a  glance  how 
the  as.sertion  was  belied  by  the  smile,  and  re- 
plied, 

"  When  White-Bull  speaks,  the  braves  listen : 
when  Bending-willow  speaks,  does  not  White- 
Bull  listen  tool" 

Th«  Upsaroka  beauty  looked  down  and  count- 
ed the  beads  upon  her  new  bracelet,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  countenance  which  encouraged  Besha 
to  proceed.  "  These  white  men  are  of  no  use  in 
the  Upsaroka  camp;  they  eat  and  drink,  and  kill 
no  game.  If  they  are  .sent  back  to  their  own 
people,  the  lodge  of  White-Bull  will  be  full  of 
presents,  and  the  women  will  say,  '  Look  at 
Bending-willow ;  she  is  dressed  like  the  wife  of 
a  great  chief!" 

By  these,  and  similar  arguments,  the  Crow 
bride  was  easily  induced  to  coanive  at  the  plot, 
laid  for  the  liberation  of  the  prisoners.  Being  a 
good-natured  cr.-ature,  and  feeling  that  the  kind- 
ness of  Prairie-bird  to  ner  had  been  ill-requited, 
she  was  the  more  willing  to  favour  the  white 
people,  and  only  held  Besha  to  the  promise  that 
in  contriving  their  escape  no  injury  should  be 
done  to  the  person  or  property  of  any  of  her 
tribe. 

With  the  assistance  of  Bending-willow,  Win- 
genund  (iiiind  several  opportunities  of  conver- 


sing with  Ethelston  and  (he  Black  Father;  bat 
the  camp  was  so  strictly  guarded  that  ihev  could 
not  devise  any  plan  that  seemed  to  promise  suc- 
cess, while  a  failure  was  sure  to  bring  upon 
them  more  rigid  confinement,  if  not  a  severer 
and  more  summary  punishment.  Wingenund 
was  authorised  by  Itesha  lu  comfort  them  with 
the  assurance  tha  'hey  had  a  true  friend  in 
Whitc-BuH'H  bri'  d  that  they  were  quite  safe- 
from  the  mallgnam  iie>lgns of  Mahiga.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  ImrHe-dealer  positively  refused, 
under  pre.seiit  circumstances,  to  incur  the  risk  ot 
aiding  their  escape  while  the  position  of  iho 
camp  was  so  unfavourable  lor  it,  and  the  Crow 
sentries  were  kept  so  much  on  the  alert  by  the 
immediate  vicinity  ol  War-Eagle's  {  .rty. 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  youth  had 
slipped  away  by  night  to  consult  with  his  friends 
whether  the  liberation  of  the  prisoners  should  be 
attempted  by  force,  or  whether  it  might  not  be 
more  advisable  to  throw  the  Crows  off  their 
guard  by  discontinuing  the  pursuit,  and  leaving; 
it  to  the  ingenuity  of  Wingenund  to  de'ise  a  plan 
tor  their  escape. 

These  two  alternatives  having  been  duly  dis- 
cussed in  council,  it  was  almost  unanimously 
agreed  to  adopt  the  latter;  and  Wingenund  pre- 
pared again  to  return  to  his  perilous  post,  hav- 
ing received  from  War-Eagle,  Reginald,  and 
Prairie-bird  the  praises  which  his  skill  P''l  en- 
terjiri.sc  liad  so  well  deserved. 

He  did  nnt  forget  to  take  wiih  him  a  small 
supply  of  beads  and  trinkets,  which  he  conceal- 
ed in  his  belt,  and  which  were  destined  to  se- 
cure the  continued  fiivour  of  Bending-willow. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  War-Eagle  propo- 
sed that  the  party  should  quit  their  present  sta- 
tion in  search  of  one  where  they  might  be  more 
likely  to  fall  in  with  deer  and  bison,  as  meat 
was  becoming  very  scarce  in  the  camp;  and  a 
scout,  sent  out  on  the  preceding  day,  had  return- 
ed with  a  report  that  he  had  found,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  half  a  dav's  march,  a  large  and  fertile 
valley,  watered  by  a  fine  stream,  and  abounding; 
in  materials  for  fuel.  This  last  consideration 
was  of  itself  highly  important,  for  the  Crows 
had  gathered  every  dry  bush  and  stick  from  the 
barren  glen  in  which  they  were  now  encamped ; 
and  the  utmost  exertions  of  the  Indefatigable 
Perrot  scarcely  enabled  him  to  provide  a  suf- 
ficiency for  cooking  the  necessary  provisions; 
while  the  coldness  of  the  atmosphere,  especially 
at  night,  rendered  the  absence  of  fire  a  privatioa 
more  than  ordinarily  severe. 

The  counsel  of  War-Eagle  was  therefore 
adopted  without  delay,  it  having  been  agreed 
that  two  of  the  most  experienced  men,  the  one  a 
Delaware  and  the  other  a  white  hunter,  ahould 
hover  around  the  Crow  camp,  and  communi- 
cate to  the  main  body,  from  time  to  time,  their 
movements  and  proceedings. 

Having  been  supplied  with  an  extra  blanket,, 
and  a  few  pounds  of  dried  meat  and  pare  red 
corn,  these  two  hardy  fellows  saw  their  com- 
rades depart  without  the  least  apparent  conc<!m, 
and  soon  afterwards  withdrew  to  a  sheliereri  an.l 
more  elevated  spot,  whence  they  could,  wiiliout 
being  perceived,  command  a  distant  view  of  the 
Crow  camp. 

Following  the  steps  of  the  scouts,  War-Eagle 
led  his  party  to  a  part  of  the  vailey  where  a- 
huge  rent  or  fissure  in  the  side  of  the  mountain 
rendered  the  ascent  practicable  for  the  horses. 
It  was,  however,  a  wild  and  rugged  scene,  and 
a  fitting  entrance  to  the  vast  pile  of  mountains, 


J  70 


THE   r  It  AI  U  I  E.n  I  uu. 


tliiit  Hhowed  tlieir  towering  pcak^i  I'ar  tu  the 
we.itwunl. 

I'iiiuiL-biid  wan  tnounti'il  npoti  Nekiini,  and 
lli'«iiialil  wiilkfil  liy  liiT  >iile,  hit  Iminl  ever 
ivaly  III  aiil  iiiid  ^'iiidu  him  aiiioii;^  tlie  hiiijt' 
Muiii'.>,  which  in  hunic  jilaccii  ubxiiuciL'd  the 
jiaih. 

Nevi;r  Imd  velvet  lawn,  or  flower-enibroldereil 
vale,  Neeiiied  U>  uiir  hero  hall'  mo  miiooiIi  and 
jileasant  iih  did  that  roeky  jinsiN.  At  every  iiirn 
ftoiiiu  new  feature  id  Kran(<eiir  arrested  the  at- 
tention olPrnirieliird,  who  e.xp.es.sed  her  ndinl- 
lation  in  InnKuayc  which  wns  a  stranKe  mixture 
of  natural  eloquence  and  poetry,  and  which 
Hounded  to  his  nam  mure  mu^iical  than  "  Apol- 
lo'ii  lute." 

What  struck  him  as  most  remarkable  was, 
that,  whether  in  .speaking  of  the  magniticeni 
scenery  around,  or  of  the  rnorc  minute  objects 
'which  I'cll  under  her  observation,  her  spirit  was 
«o  iuibued  with  Scripture,  that  .she  constantly 
clothed  her  ideas  in  its  phraseology,  without  be- 
inu'  conscious  of  so  doing. 

riius,  when  in  crossing  the  valley  they  pasH- 
cd  by  some  ant-hills,  and,  in  ascending'  tlie  o|v 
posiie  height,  saw  here  and  there  a  mountain- 
rabbit  nibbling  the  short  moss  that  overspread 
the  bed  of  rock,  Reginald  directed  her  attention 
to  them,  sayinjr,  "  See,  I'rairie-bird,  even  in  this 
<les(date  wilderness  ttiese  insect-millions  have 
built  them  a  ciiy,  and  the  rabbit  skips  and  feasts 
as  merrily  as  in  more  fertile  regions," 

"  True,  dear  Reginald,"  she  replied,  "  there- 
fore did  the  wise  man  say  in  days  of  old,  '  The 
ants  are  a  people  not  strong,  yet  they  prepare 
tlieir  meat  in  the  summer:  the  conies  are  but  a 
feeble  folk,  yet  make  they  their  houses  in  the 
rock.-.' " 

A  little  further  onward,  the  pass  was  over- 
Jiung  by  an  enormous  cliH",  from  the  top  of 
■which  a  bighorn  looked  down  upon  the  party 
telow,  the  lon^  beard  of  the  mountain-goa't 
streaming  in  the  wind.  One  of  the  hunters  tired 
at  it,  but  the  harmless  bullet  glanced  from  the 
face  of  the  clifT,  while  amid  the  echoes  repeated 
and  prolonged  by  the  surrounding  heights,  the 
bighorn  sprang  from  rock  to  rock  across  the 
yawning  chasms  by  which  they  were  divided, 
as  lightly  as  the  forest  squirrel  leaps  from  a 
branch  of  the  spreading  oak  to  that  of  the  neigh- 
bouring elm. 

Reeinald  watched  the  animal's  progress,  and 
called  tne  attention  of  Prairie-bird  to  the  surpri- 
sing swiftness  and  activity  with  which  it  held 
on  its  perilous  course. 

When  at  length  it  disappeared  nenind  the  an- 
.gle  of  an  abrupt  precipice,  she  said,  "  Does  i: 
not  call  to  your  mind  the  description  given  of 
the  wild-ass  of  the  East,  in  the  Book  of  Job, 
'Who  hath  sent  out  the  wild-ass  freel  or  who 
liath  loosened  the  band  of  the  wild-ass  1  whose 
house  I  have  made  the  wilderness,  and  the  bar- 1 
ren  land  his  dwelling?    He  scorneih  the  multi- 1 
tude  of  the  city,  neither  regardeih  he  the  crying  ] 
of  the  driver.    The  range  of  the  mountains  is 
his  pasture,  and  he  searcheth  after  every  green* 
thing.'      Tell    me,    Reginald,"   continued   the 
maiden,  after  a  momentary  pause,   "can  the 
creature  here  described  be  the  same  dull  patient 
animal  that  I  have  often  seen  bearing  the  packs 
ol  the  Mexican  traders?" 

"  The  same,  I  believe,  dearest,  in  its  origin, 
and  its  place  in  natural  history,  hut  widely  dif-  \ 
ferent  in  its  habits  and  powers,  if  we  may  credit  j 
the  narratives  of  travellers,  whether  modem  or| 


ancient.  1  remember  reading  a  most  spirited 
description  of  this  same  niiimal  in  tlie  account 
given  liy  the  eminent  historian*  ol  ihi;  expedi- 
lum  of  the  younger  Cyrus,  who  relates  that  ihe 
herds  id  them  lound  near  the  batiks  of  the  Ku- 
pliraies  surpassed  the  swiltest  horses  in  sj)^.  ; 
and  were  neither  to  be  tamed  nor  ajiproai  bed 
without  the  greatest  dilliculiy ;  and  in  Inter 
times  they  have  been  described  as  abounding  in 
the  wildest  regions  of  Persia  and  Tnrtary,  wliere 
their  flesh  is  considered  one  of  the  greatest  del- 
icacie<i  at  the  table  of  the  hunter,  and  even  at 
that  of  the  prince.  In  order  to  distinguish  this 
animal  Irom  its  humble  and  degraded  kindred 
in  the  West,  it  has  been  dignified  by  the  name 
of  the  Onager." 

The  conversation  wa«  here  interrupted  hy  a 
sudden  halt  in  the  line  of  march,  and  Reginald 
heard  the  sound  of  numerous  voices  towanis  the 
front  as  of  men  speaking  under  surprise  and  ex> 
citement.  When  he  advanced,  with  Prairie- 
bird  at  his  side,  thfy  made  way  for  him  to  pass 
until  he  reached  the  front,  where  he  found  War- 
Eagle  holding  by  a  leathern  thong  the  most  sin- 
gular-looking creature  that  he  had  ever  beheld. 
it  bore  in  some  res|ects  the  semblance  of  a  hu- 
man being,  hut  the  extreme  lowness  of  its  stat- 
ure, the  matted  hair  by  which  it  was  covered, 
the  length  of  the  liiiger  nails,  and  the  smallness 
of  the  deep-set  eyes  made  it  almost  a  matter  of 
doubt  whether  it  did  not  rather  belong  to  the 
monkey  tribe. 

This  was,  however,  soon  dispelled  by  Pierre, 
who  recogni.sed  in  the  diminutive  and  terrified 
creature  one  of  the  race  known  to  mountain- 
hunters  under  the  name  of  Root-diggers.  They 
are  the  most  abject  and  wretched  of  all  the  In- 
dian tribes,  living  in  caves  and  holes,  and  sup- 
porting their  miserable  existence  upon  such  aa- 
iinals  as  they  can  catch,  in  toils  of  the  simplest 
kind,  and  by  grubbing  and  digging  for  roots 
such  as  no  other  human  being  could  eat  or  di- 
gest. The  one  now  taken  by  the  Delawares 
had  been  engaged  in  the  latter  occupation  when 
he  first  saw  them  approach,  and  he  fled  imme- 
diately towards  the  rocks.  Had  he  been  fol- 
loweef  by  an  eye  les,s  sure,  and  a  foot  less  fleet 
than  that  of  War-Eagle,  he  might  have  escaped, 
for,  despite  his  uncouth  appearance,  he  was  nim- 
ble ns  a  mountain-cat,  but  the  Delaware  chief 
overlook  and  secured  him;  and  in  spite  of  all 
the  endeavours  made  to  reassure  him,  the  unfor- 
timate  Root-digger  now  looked  about  him  as  if 
he  expected  every  moment  to  be  his  last.  Beads, 
trinkets,  and  shreds  of  bright-coloured  cloth 
W(  re  all  held  up  to  him  in  turn,  but  were  left 
unnoticed,  and  his  deep  twinkling  eyes  roved  in- 
cessantly from  one  to  another  of  the  bystanders 
with  an  expression  of  the  most  intense  alarm. 

"Are  they  always  thus  fearlui  ann  intracta- 
ble?" inquired  Reginald  of  the  Canadian  hunter. 

"  Not  always,"  replied  Pierre ;  "  but  the  Crows, 
and  Black-feel,  and  white  men  too,  generally 
neat  them  worse  than  dogs  whenever  they  find 
tiem;  that  is  not  often,  for  they  always  hide 
!  mong  rocks  and  .stones,  and  seldom  come  down 
•■o  low  in  the  valleys.  I  never  saw  one  in  this 
legion  before." 

"Prairie-bird,"  said  Reginald,  in  a  whisper  to 
the  maiden,  "speak  to  the  poor  creature  a  few 
words  of  comfort.  Were  he  shy,  suspicious,  and 
wild  as  a  wolf,  that  voice  would  subdue  and  dis- 
pel his  apprehensions." 

*  Xenophon. 


1  i 


T  II  K    P  U  A  I  U  I  K  •  U  I  U  D. 


in 


"<>»»  Jtplrlipd 
llie  Hccoiiiit 
llif  I'xpedi. 
;»li'!t  iliat  ilif 
■■'  o|  ilio  Eu- 
^-es  in  >ij)i',%! 

"'I  in  JiiK'r 
Ixjiindinjf  iti 
rtary,  wiiciu 

find  I' von  at 
'tinguisli  tills 
ntlt'ii  l<inilrcd 
by  ilic  naiuu 

rriipied  by  a 
ind  Kfginaiil 
s  towards  the 
prise  and  ex- 
ilh  Prairie- 
him  to  pass 
I'ound  War- 
lie  most  sin- 
I'ver  beheld, 
ince  of  a  hu- 
<><  of  its  Mat- 
was  covered, 
be  smallness 
t  a  niHtler  of 
lelong  to  the 

vd  by  Pierre, 
and  terrified 
to  niountain- 
fffers.     They 
uf  all  the  In- 
les,  and  sup- 
pon  such  an- 
the  simplest 
ine  for  roots 
ulu  eat  ordi> 
e  Dela  wares 
jpation  when 
le  fled  imme- 
he  been  Jbl- 
root  less  fleet 
lave  escaped, 
,  he  wasnim- 
laware  chief 
spite  of  all 
no,  the  unfor- 
iiit  him  as  if 
last.   Beads, 
oured   cloth 
)iit  were  left 
yea  roved  in- 
e  bystanders 
use  alarm, 
ma  intracta- 
idian  hunter. 
It  the  Crows, 
0,  generally 
'er  they  find 
always  hide 
come  down 
one  in  this 

a  whisper  to 
lature  a  few 
picious,  and 
iue  and  dis- 


r 


"TliP  sweetness  of  the  voice  lies  in  the  hear- 
er's ii.iI'ImI  ear,"  replied  Prairie-bird,  bliisliing 
deeply;  "  liiit  I  will  do  your  bidding  to  tlie  be^t 
of  my  power;  and  if  I  inistuke  not  the  pour  crua- 
turd's  symptoms,  I  think  I  can  lind  a  means  to 
relieve  tin  m." 

Ho  m^iuK,  and  leaping  lightly  from  her  horse, 
tl.".  maiden  look  from  one  of  the  packs  a  piece  of 
baked  mai/e-cake,  and  a  .slice  id'dried  bi^on-ineat. 
C'irrying  these  in  her  hand,  she  approached  the 
P  xit-di^ger,  and  motioning  to  the  bystanders  to 
retire  to  some  distance,  nIic  deliberately  untied 
the  ihong  by  which  he  had  lieen  fastened,  and 
placing  the  loud  tK-lore  him,  made  signs  that  he 
ahoiild  eat.  At  tirst  the  uncouth  beini;  gazed 
npon  her  as  if  he  could  or  would  not  understand 
her  meani  ig;  but  she  spoke  to  him  in  the  sod 
Delaware  tongue,  and  eating  a  morsel  of  the 
«ake,  repe.ited  the  signal  that  he  should  eat  with 
lier.  Whe'hcr  overcome  by  the  gentleness  of 
her  manner,  or  by  the  cravings  of  hunger,  the 
savage  no  longer  resisted,  but  devoured  with 
ravenous  haste  the  food  wnich  she  had  set  be- 
loie  him.  Prairie-bird  smiled  at  the  success  of 
her  attempt,  which  so  far  encouraged  her,  that 
flhe  again  ofiered  the  several  presents  which  he 
had  before  rejected,  and  which  he  now  accepted, 
turning  them  over  and  over  in  his  hand,  and  in- 
specting them  with  childish  curiosity. 

Ueginald  looked  on  with  gratified  pride,  say- 
ing within  himself,  "I  knew  that  nothing  could 
resist  the  winning  tones  of  that  voice! 

'  Since  nauffl't  •<>  •tiK^kiah,  hanl,  and  full  uf  nun, 
Hut  inutia  Tur  the  time  doiU  cimngfl  liii  nature  ;' 

and  where  is  there  music  like  the  voice  of  Prai- 
rie-bird 1" 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

The  Root-direer  makei  Fri....;.  with  the  Party.— An  Ad- 
venture  witliagriizly  Bear.— The  Conduct  of  War-Kagle, 

No  sooner  had  Prairie-bird  gained  the  confi- 
dence of  the  Root-digger,  than  War-Eagle,  Regi- 
nald,  and  the  other  chief  hunters,  approached  him 
with  signs  of  amity  and  friendship ;  nevertheless, 
he  continued  shy  and  suspicious,  still  refusing  to 
•receive  either  food  or  present  from  any  hand  ex- 
cepting that  of  the  maiden.  They  were  obliged, 
rtierefore,  to  make  her  their  interpreter,  and  to 
endeavour,  through  her,  to  acquire  the  informa- 
tion of  which  they  were  in  want  respecting  the 
scarcity  or  anundance  of  deer  and  bison  in  the 
neighbourhood. 

In  the  discharge  of  this  office.  Prairie-bird  dis- 
covered so  much  natural  quickness,  and  at  the 
same  time  so  complete  a  knowledge  of  the  In- 
dian language  of  signs,  that  Reginald  looked  on 
with  the  mo.-il  intense  interest  while  the  maiden, 
•whose  beauty  was  so  strongly  contrasted  with 
the  hideous  face  and  figure  of  the  mountain  dwarf, 
maintained  with  him  a  conversation  of  some 
length,  in  the  course  of  which  she  learned  that 
there  were  few,  if  any  bison  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, but  that  the  argali,  or  mountain  sheep,  and 
deer  of  several  kinds,  were  to  be  found  at  no 
great  distance.  She  succeeded  also,  at  length, 
in  so  far  disarming  his  stjspicions,  that  he  agreed 
to  act  as  guide  to  Baptiste  and  Reginald  in  pur- 
suit of  game,  and  to  return  with  them  to  reap  the 
reward  of  his  trouble  in  further  presents  from  the 
hand  of  Prairie-bird. 

The  sturdy  back-woodsman  did  not  seem  to 
place  much  confidence  in  the  fidelity  of  his  new 


arijuainianee,  and  bluntly  observed  [n  Pierre, 
"  l''i)r  sine,  I  never  .taw  an  uglier  enitur,  and  his 
eyes  roll  Iroin  side  to  side  with  an  iindcilouk  that 
1  ilon'i  half  like ;  perliaps  lie'l!  lead  us  into  .some 
Hinbiish  (il  Upsarokus,  or  oilier  mountain  In- 
gians,  rattier  than  to  a  herd  uf  deer." 

"  ^'ou  need  not  bo  afraid,  Hnptiste,"  replied 
his  brother  hunter,  laughing;  'ilieNe  poor  llojt- 
tliggers  are  harmless  and  honcM  in  their  own 
minerablc  way.  They  arc  said  to  belong  to  the 
Nhoshonies,  or  Nnaku-tribe,  and  are  the  Vft  of 
all  the  In/iaiis  hereabouts;  not  such  lighting 
devils  as  ihe  DIack-leet,  nor  such  thieves  as  tliu 
Crows,  I'ut  friendly  to  the  Whites.  'I'his  poor 
critiiir  ban  been  digging  lor  roots  many  a  long 
(lay  Willi  that  shnrpeiiccl  llint,  which  you  see  in 
his  hand.  Alier  you  have  started  on  your  hunt- 
ing trip,  make  him  a  present  of  a  good  knite.  I 
have  watched  liis  eyes  roving  from  belt  to  belt; 
he  would  give  his  ears  for  one,  and  yet  is  too 
frightened  to  ask  tor  it." 

"Thanks  for  the  hint,  Pierre,"  said  his  com- 
panion, looking  carelully  to  the  priming  of  hi* 
ride;  "thanks  lor  the  hint.  I  will  carry  a  spare 
one  with  inc  on  purpose ;  and  in  ea.se  we  should 
fall  in  with  a  fat  herd,  do  you,  friend  War-Ea- 
gle, give  us  the  company  ol  one  of  your  stoutest 
men,  that  he  may  assist  in  bringing  in  enough 
meat  lor  the  parly." 

On  hearing  these  words.  Prairie-bird  inquired 
of  the  Root-digger,  by  signs,  whether  one  of  the 
mules  could  not  go  over  the  hunting-ground. 
The  savage  looked  first  at  the  animal,  then  at 
the  fair  speaker,  and  then,  with  a  grin,  gave  a 
most  decided  indication  of  a  negative. 

The  preparations  for  the  hunt  were  .soon  madp. 
Prairie-bird  urged  Reginald,  in  a  low  voice,  not 
to  remain  too  long  absent,  a  command  which  he 
faithfully  promised  to  obey;  and  just  as  he  was 
about  to  set  forth,  ho  led  her  up  to  the  chief,  and 
said,  "War-Eagle  will  tnke  care  of  his  sisterl" 

The  Indian's  proud  heart  was  gratified  by  this 
simple  proof  ot  his  friend's  unbounded  confi- 
dence; lie  saw  that  no  jealousy,  no  donbt  of  his 
victory  over  self,  lurked  in  the  breast  of  Regi- 
nald, and  he  replied,  "While  War-Eagle  has 
life  to  protect  her,  Olitipa  shall  be  safe  as  in  the 
lodge  of  Tanienund." 

Reginald  turned  and  followed  Baptiste  and  the 
Root-diggci,  '.vho  had  already  taken  their  way 
up  the  valley,  accompanied  by  the  Delaware  se- 
lected to  aid  in  car:  ng  home  the  anticipated 
booty. 

Leaving  them  to  toil  up  one  rocky  steep  aAer 
another,  wondering  at  the  enduring  agility  of 
the  Shoshonie  dwarf,  who  seemed  almost  as  ac- 
tive and  sure-footed  as  one  of  the  mountain-goats 
of  which  they  were  in  search,  we  will  return  la 
the  valley  where  War-Eagle's  camp  was  posted, 
which  formed,  as  we  have  before  noticed,  a 
pleasing  contrast  to  the  savage  scenery  around. 
The  stream  that  flowed  through  its  centre  fresh 
from  the  snowy  bosom  of  the  mountain,  was 
cool  and  clear  as  crystal,  and  the  ."^hade  of  the 
trees  which  grew  along  its  banks  was  delightful- 
ly refreshing  after  the  fatigues  of  a  summer 
march,  even  in  a  region  the  elevation  of  which 
rendered  the  atmosphere  extremely  cold  before 
the  rising  and  after  the  setting  of  the  sun.  Prai- 
rie-bird ielt  an  irresistible  desire  to  stroll  by  the 
banks  of  this  stream,— a  desire  that  was  no  soon- 
er mentioned  by  Lita  to  War-Eagle  than  he  at 
once  assented,  assuring  her  that  she  might  do  so 
in  safety,  as  his  scouts  were  on  the  look-out  both 
above  and  below  in  the  valley,  so  that  no  enemy 


f 


178 


THE    PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


could  approach  unperceived.  At  the  same  time 
he  gave  intitructions  in  the  catnp  that  none  of 
the  men  should  wander  to  that  quarter,  in  order 
that  it  might  be  lell  altogether  undisturt>ed. 

Shortly  afterwards  Prairie-bird  set  forth,  ta- 
king in  her  hand  a  moccasin,  which  she  was  or- 
namenting with  stained  quiils  for  the  lout  of  Re- 
ginald, and  accompanied  by  her  faithful  Lita, 
who  bore  upon  her  head  a  bundle  containing  va- 
rious articles  belonging  to  her  mistress  and  to 
herself,  on  which  she  was  about  to  exercise  her 
talents  as  a  laundress. 

The<r  had  pursued  their  respective  avocations 
for  several  hours  without  interruption,  when  on 
a  sudden  they  heard  the  report  of  a  riile  and  the 
voice  of  a  man  shouting,  as  if  engaged  in  the 
pursuit  of  game.  This  was  an  occurrence  to 
which  both  were  so  much  accustomed,  that  they 
paid  at  first  little  attention  to  it;  but  they  felt 
some  alarm  when  they  saw  one  of  their  party,  a 
white  hunter,  coming  towards  them  as  if  running 
for  his  life.  Before  reaching  the  spot  where 
they  were  seated,  he  threw  his  rifle  upon  the 
ground,  and  climbed  into  a  tree;  immediately 
afterwards  a  young  male,  not  full  grown,  of  the 
species  called  the  grizzly  or  rocky  mountain 
bear  came  up,  limping  as  if  wounded  by  the  rifle 
so  lately  discharged,  and  missing  the  object  thnt 
he  had  been  fullowing,  looked  around  him,  howl- 
ing with  mingled  rage  and  pain.  At  length  he 
caught  sight  of  Prairie-bird  and  her  companion ; 
and  setting  up  ;•.  :Tiore  loud  and  angry  howl,  trotted 
towards  them.  Unlbriunately,  the  spot  to  which 
they  had  retired  was  a  narrow  strip  of  wooded 
ground,  projecting  into  a  curve  of  the  stream 
above-mentioned,  and  they  could  not  retreat  to- 
wards the  camp  without  approaching  yet  nearer 
to  the  wourided  bear.  There  was  no  lime  for 
reflection;  and  in  the  sudden  emergency,  Prai- 
rie-bird hesitated  whether  .she  should  not  adopt 
the  desperate  alternative  of  throwing  herself  into 
the  water,  in  hopes  that  the  stream  might  carry 
her  out  of  the  reach  of  danger. 

At  this  crisis  the  crack  of  a  rifle  was  heard, 
and  the  young  bear  fell,  but  again  rose  and  strug- 
gled ibrward,  as  if  determined  not  to  be  disap- 
pointed of  its  prey.  Seeing  the  imminent  dan- 
ger of  the  woman,  the  hunter  who  had  climbed 
the  tree  dropped  lightly  to  the  ground,  and  catch- 
ing up  his  rifle,  attacked  the  half-exhausted  an- 
imal, which  still  retained  sufiicient  strength  to 
render  too  aear  an  approach  extremely  danger- 
ous. War-Eagle,  for  he  it  was  who  had  fired 
the  last  opportune  shot,  now  sprang  forward  from 
the  bushes,  reloading  his  rifle  as  he  came,  in  or- 
der to  decide  the  issue  of  the  conflict,  when  a 
loud  shriek  from  Lita  reached  his  ear;  and  on 
turning  round  he  beheld  the  dam  of  the  wound- 
ed cub,  a  she-bear  of  enormous  bulk,  trotting 
rapidly  forward  to  the  scene  of  action ;  the  hunt- 
er was  so  much  engaged  in  dealing  blow  after 
blow  with  the  butt  of  his  rifle,  that  he  had  no- 
ticed neither  her  approach  nor  the  warning  shout 
of  War-Eagle,  when  one  stroke  from  her  terrible 
paw  struck  him  bleeding  and  senseless  to  the 
ground.  For  an  instant  she  smelt  and  moaned 
over  her  dying  offspring ;  then,  as  if  attracted  by 
the  female  dress,  pursued  her  way  with  redoub- 
led speed  and  fury  towards  the  spot  where  Lita 
clung,  with  speechless  terror,  lo  the  arm  of  her 
jristress.  The  latter,  although  fully  alive  to  the 
imiiiinency  of  tne  peril,  lost  not  her  composure 
at  this  trying  moment.  Breathing  &  short  pray- 
er '.o  Heaven  for  support  and  protection,  she  fix- 
ed her  eyes  upon  War-Eagle,  as  if  conscious 


that  the  only  human  possibility  of  safety  no« 
lay  in  bis  courage  and  J.votion. 

Then  it  was  that  the  Indian  chief  evinced  the 
high  and  heroic  properties  of  his  character;  tor 
although  every  second  brought  the  infuriated 
brute  near  and  more  near  to  her  who  had  been 
from  youth  his  jeari's  dearest  treasure,  he  con- 
tinued, aa  he  advanced,  to  load  the  rifle  with  a 
hand  as  steady  as  if  he  had  been  about  to  prac- 
tise at  a  target ;  and  just  as  the  ball  was  rammed 
home,  and  the  priming  carefully  placed  in  the 
pan,  he  threw  himselt  directly  in  fiont  of  the 
bear,  so  that  it  was  only  by  first  destroying  him 
that  she  could  possibly  approach  the  objects  of 
his  care.  It  was  a  moment,  and  but  a  moment, 
of  dreadful  suspense,  for  the  bear  swerved  nei- 
ther to  the  right  nor  to  the  lell  from  her  onward 
path,  and  it  was  not  until  the  muzzle  of  the  rifle 
was  within  three  yards  of  her  Ibrehead  that  he 
fired,  taking  his  aim  between  her  eyes;  shaking 
her  head  as  if  more  angered  than  hurt,  she  raised 
her  huge  form  on  her  hind  legs,  and  advanced 
to  seize  him,  when  he  drew  his  pistol  and  dis- 
charged it  into  her  chest,  springing  at  the  same 
time  lightly  back,  almost  to  the  spot  to  which 
Praii'ie-bird  and  her  trembling  companion  seem- 
ed rooted  as  if  by  a  spell.  Although  both  shots 
had  struck  where  they  were  aimed,  the  second  ap- 
peared to  have  taken  no  more  efiect  than  the  first, 
and  the  bear  was  again  advancing  to  the  attack, 
when  War-Eagle,  catching  up  from  the  ground 
a  blanket  which  Lita  had  brought  down  to  the 
brook,  held  it  extended  before  him  until  the  mon- 
ster sprung  against  it,  and  with  her  claws  rent  it 
into  shreds;  not,  however,  before  it  had  served 
for  an  instant  the  purpose  of  a  veil ;  profiling  by 
that  opportunity,  the  heroic  Delaware  dashed  in 
between  her  lore-paws  and  plunged  his  long 
knife  into  her  breast.  Short,  though  terrible, 
was  the  struggle  that  ensued;  the  bear  was  ev- 
ery moment  growing  weaker  from  the  eflect  of 
the  shot-wounds,  and  from  loss  of  blood,  and  al- 
though she  lacerated  him  dreadfully  with  hsr 
claws  and  teeth,  she  was  not  able  to  make  hin> 
relax  the  determined  gra.sp  with  which  he  clung 
10  her,  plune'ing  the  latal  knife  again  and  again 
into  her  boay,  until  at  length  sb■^  fell  exhausted 
and  expiring  into  a  pool  of  her  own  b!ood,  while 
the  triumphant  war-cry  of  the  Delawar«  rung 
aloud  through  wood  and  vale.* 

Alarmed  by  the  shots,  the  yells  of  the  dying 


*  To  aoms  who  have  rend  the  dcscriptiona  of  bear-hunt* 
in  Norway  and  Riiiiia  it  may  appear  neither  wonderful  nor 
unusual  tnat  aain|;lo  hunter  should  kill  a  full-grown  bear ; 
but  it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  timt  the  bear  of  the  north  of 
Europe  bears  alwut  the  same  proportion  to  a  grizzly  bear 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains  ( Ursus  Horribiiit)  u>  a  panther 
(ioes  to  a  Oeugnl  tiger.  The  grizzly  licar  is  not  only  the 
largest  and  most  furociout:  of  his  sjwcics,  l»ut  his  tenacity 
of  life  is  so  remnrkal>le  that  he  frequently  runs  a  consider- 
able distance  and  survives  some  hours  aUor  receiving  sev 
eral  baiU  through  the  lungs,  head,  and  heart.  On  this  an 
count  it  in  never  safe  for  the  most  experienced  marksnmib 
to  attack  him  alone,  unless  there  bo  some  tree  nr  place  of 
safety  at  hand,  fur  the  grizzly  bear  cannot  or  will  not  climb 
A  tree ;  and  some  idea  of  the  animal's  strength  may  be 
formed  from  the  fact,  attested  by  many  credible  witnesses, 
that,  after  killing  a  bison,  he  will  freiiuentty  ding  the  car- 
case some  distance  to  his  lair.  For  descriptions  and  anec- 
dotes of  the  grizzly  bear  see  Lewis  and  (.'lurke's  Gx|iedition 
to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  Major  Lung's  ditto,  A  feat 
almost  similar  to  that  recorded  in  the  text  was  perfurmed- 
somc  years  ago  by  an  Iroquoil,  one  of  the  lust  of  his  iribe, 
nd  who,  thiiugK  grievously  wounded,  survived.  Tho 
-uthur  saw  this  '.ndian  hero  arrive  at  .St.  Louis  in  u  cnnoe, 
uuntaininii'  only  him'iclf  and  a  boy,  they  having  descended 
tlie  Missiiiin  lur  nmre  than  I5'l')  miles  in  tlir'ir  frail  bark; 
and  having  puiisod  iii  their  iwrilo^s  voyitge  the  villages  of 
Crows,  Riccarees,  JSioui,  Black-feet,  and  tther  predatory 
tribei. 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIHD. 


m 


bear,  and  the  shouts  of  the  chief,  several  of  the 
party  now  hastened  towards  the  scene  of  action ; 
but  before  they  could  reach  it  Reginald  Brandon, 
who  was  just  returning  inttf  camp  with  the  re- 
sults of  a  successful  cbace,  caught  the  mingled 
sounds,  and  outstripping  all  his  companions,  ar- 
rived, panting  and  brenihless,  on  the  spot.  For 
a  moment  he  gaz**  jn  the  strange  and  fearful 
spectacle  that  m-  nis  view.  The  Delaware 
chief,  supporting  his  head  upon  his  hand,  still 
reclined  against  the  body  of  his  grim  antagonist, 
his  countenance  calm  in  its  expression,  but  both 
his  face  and  his  whole  form  covered  with  recent 
blood;  at  his  feet  lay  Lita,  perfectly  uncon- 
scious, and  sprinkled  with  the  same  crimson 
stream;  while  at  his  side  knelt  Prairie-bird, 
breathing  over  her  heroic  preserver  the  fervent 
outpourings  of  a  grateful  heart !  Another  mo- 
ment, and  Reginald  was  beside  her;  he  under- 
stood instinctively  all  that  had  passed,  and  no 
sooner  had  ascertained  that  his  betrothed  was 
safe  and  unhurt,  than  he  turned  with  affectionate 
-and  anxi  is  solicitude  to  inquire  into  the  condi- 
tion of  1  IS  friend.  "Olitipa  is  safe  and  War- 
Eagle  is  happy,"  replied  the  chief. 

By  this  time  the  Delawares  were  all  gathered 
round  their  beloved  leader,  and  in  obedience  to 
an  order  which  he  gave  in  a  low  voice,  one  of 
them  threw  a  blanket  over  his  torn  and  blood- 
:siained  dress,  vhile  another  brought  from  the 
sMTL-am  a  bowl  of  fresh  water,  which  Prairie- 
bird  took  from  the  messenger,  and  held  to  his 
parched  lips;  then,  wetting  a  cloth,  she  washed 
the  blood  Ironi  his  face,  cooled  his  hot  brow,  and 
inquired,  in  a  tone  of  sisterly  affection,  whether 
he  found  himself  recruited  and  refreshed. 

"  The  hand  of  Olitipa  is  medicine  against  pain, 
and  her  voice  brings  comfort !"  replied  the  chief, 
gi;ntly.    "  War-Eagle  is  quite  happy." 

Not  so  were  those  around  him.  His  stern 
warriors  stood  in  sad  unbroken  silence;  the  fea- 
tures of  the  hardy  guide  worked  with  an  emo- 
tion that  he  strove  in  vain  to  conceal,  for  he 
knew  that  tha  Delaware  would  not  have  retain- 
ed his  sitting  posture  by  the  carcase  of  the  bear, 
had  not  his  wounds  been  grievous  and  disabling ; 
Reginald  Brandon  held  the  hand  of  his  friend, 
unable  to  speak,  save  a  few  broken  words  of  af- 
fection and  gratitude:  while  Prairie-bird  found 
at  length  relief  for  her  oppressed  heart  in  -.  flood 
■of  tears.  So  much  engrossed  were  they  all  by 
their  own  feelings,  that  none  seemed  to  notice 
the  anguish  of  Lita,  who  still  lay  in  a  pool  of 
blood  at  the  feet  of  him  whom  she  had  long  and 
secretly  loved,  giving  no  further  signs  of  life  than 
a  succession  of  smothered  wailings  and  groans 
that  escaped  from  her  unconscious  lips. 

The  only  countenance  among  those  present  that 
retained  its  unmoved  composure  was  that  of  the 
Chief  himself;  and  a  bright  ray  shot  from  his 
dark  eye  when  one  of  the  bravest  of  his  warriors 
laid  down  before  him  the  claws  of  the  huge  bear 
and  her  cub,  which  he  had  cut  off,  according  to 
custom,  and  now  presented  as  a  trophy  of  victory. 

Baptiste  and  Pierre  having . f on lerrcd  together 
for  a  few  minutes,  the  forme?"  whispered  to  Re- 
ginald Brandon  that  Prairie-bird  and  Lita  should 
be  withdrawn  lor  a  short  time,  while  War-Ea- 
glp's  wo'.inds  were  examined,  and  his  real  con- 
dition ascertained.  Agreeably  to  this  sugges- 
tion, Reginald  led  his  betrothed  weeping  from 
the  spot.  Some  of  the  Delawares  and  hunters 
removed  Lita ;  but  not  without  'Jifficulty,  as  she 
still  clung  with  frantic  energy  to  the  torn  gar- 
ments of  the  Chief;  and,  as  they  bore  her  away, 


they  now  for  the  first  time  observed  that  she  had 
received  some  severe  scratches  in  lier  fruitless 
endeavour  to  rescue  him  from  the  struggles  of 
the  dying  bear. 

When  all  had  retired  to  some  distance,  and 
there  remained  only  by  the  Delaware  the  oldest 
of  his  warriors,  Pierre  and  Baptiste,  the  latter 
gently  liAed  the  blanket  from  tne  shoulders  of 
the  wounded  man,  saying,  "  Let  my  brother  al- 
low  his  friends  to  see  the  hurts  which  he  has 
received,  that  they  may  endeavour  to  relieve  or 
heal  them." 

The  Chief  nodded  his  assent,  and  no  sign,  save 
the  dew  that  stood  upon  his  brow,  betrayed  the 
agony  and  the  sense  of  exhaustion  that  he  en- 
dured. When  the  tattered  remnants  of  his  hunt- 
ing dress  were  removed,  a  spectacle  so  terrible 
was  presented  to  the  eyes  of  tne  Guide,  that  even 
his  iron  nerves  could  not  endure  it,  and,  cover- 
ing his  face  with  his  hands,  he  groaned  aloud, 
while  the  exclamation,  "Dieu  de  la  miseri- 
cordel"  broke  from  his  lips  in  the  language  that 
they  had  first  been  taught  to  speak. 

The  left  arm  of  the  Chief  was  bitten  through 
and  through,  and  so  dreadfully  mangled  that  no 
skill  of  surgery  could  restore  i: ;  the  shoulders 
and  chest  had  been  lacerated  by  the  fore-paws, 
and  some  of  the  wounds  wide  and  gaping,  as  ii 
made  by  a  saw  or  hatchet ;  these,  however,  might 
possibly  yield  to  time  and  careful  treatment;  . 
but  the  injuries  that  he  had  received  in  the  lower 
part  of  the  body  were  such  as  to  leave  no  hope 
of  recovery,  for  the  bear,  in  her  last  dying  strug- 
gles, had  used  the  terrible  claws  of  her  hind-feet 
with  such  fatal  effect,  that  the  lacerated  entrails 
of  the  sufferer  protruded  through  the  wound. 

Baptiste  saw  at  a  glance  that  all  was  over,  and 
that  any  attempt  at  closing  the  wounds  would 
only  cause  additional  and  needless  pain.  War- 
Eagle  watched  his  countenance,  and  reading 
there  a  verdict  that  confirmed  his  own  sensations, 
gave  him  his  hand  and  smiled.  The  rough  woods- 
man wrung  it  with  ill-dissembled  emotion,  and 
turned  away  his  head  that  his  Indian  friend  might 
not  see  the  moisture  th.tt  gathered  in  his  eye. 

A  brief  consultation  now  ensued,  during  which 
it  was  arranged  that  the  carcases  of  the  bears 
.should  be  carried  away,  and  the  wounded  chief 
gently  moved  to  a  soft  grassy  spot  a  few  yards 
distant,  where  his  wounds  might  be  so  far  dress- 
ed and  bandaged  as  to  prevent  further  effusion 
of  blood.  It  was  also  agreed  that  the  tent  and 
the  lodges  should  be  brought  to  the  spot,  so  that 
he  might  receive  all  the  care  and  attention  that 
his  desperate  case  admitted. 

These  arrangements  having  been  made,  Bap- 
tiste walked  slowly  towards  the  place  where  the 
rest  of  the  party  awaited  in  deep  anxiety  the  re- 
sult of  his  report.  As  he  drsw  near  with  heavy, 
lingering  steps,  and  his  weather-beaten  couate- 
nanct  overspread  with  gloom,  they  saw  too  well 
the  pur;K>rt  of  his  message,  and  none  had  cour- 
age enough  to  be  the  first  to  bid  him  speak. 
Prairit-bird  clung  to  the  arm  of  Reginald  for 
support;  the  Delawares  leaned  upon  their  rifles 
in  silence ;  and  even  the  rough  hunters  of  the 
prairie  wore  an  aspect  of  sadness  that  contrasted 
strongly  with  their  habitual  bold  and  reckless 
bearing. 

Recovering  his  composure  by  a  powerful  ef- 
fort, the  Guide  looked  gravely  around  him  as 
soon  as  he  reached  the  centre  of  a  semicircle  in 
which  they  stood,  and  addressing  himself  first  to 
Reginald  and  the  white  men,  said,  "  There  is  no 
cure  for  the  wounds  of  the  Delaware ;  were  the 


174 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


Black  Father  himself  among  ns,  his  skill  and 
his  medicine  would  be  in  vain."  Then  turning 
to  the  Delawares,  he  added  in  their  own  tongue, 
"  The  sun  of  the  Lenape  Chief  is  setting.  Tlie 
Great  Spirit  has  sent  for  him,  and  he  must  obey : 
let  his  warriors  gather  round  him  to  smooth  his 
path  through  the  dark  valley." 

Having  thus  spoken,  the  Guide  hastened  to 
carry  into  effect  the  arrangements  above  men- 
tioned, and  in  a  short  time  the  tittle  camp  was 
moved  to  the  spot  where  the  Delaware  reclined 
against  the  stump  of  a  withered  alder,  over 
•which  his  followers  had  already  thrown  some 
Jlankets  and  buffalo-robes  to  soften  his  couch. 
Hither  was  brought  the  tent  of  Prairie-bird, 
■which  was  so  pitched  that  the  outer  compart- 
ment might  shelter  the  wounded  chief,  and  might 
afford  to  Reginald  and  Prairie-bird  the  means  of 
watching  him  constantly,  and  adniinisteringsuch 
relief  in  his  extremity,  as  was  within  their  power. 

Lita's  energies,  both  of  mind  and  body,  seem- 
ed entirely  paralyzed,  she  neither  wept  nor  sob- 
bed, but  sale  in  a  corner  of  the  tent,  whence  she 
gazed  intently,  yet  with  a  vacant  expression, 
upon  the  sufl'erer. 

He  alone  of  the  whole  party  maintained 
throughout  a  dignified  and  unmoved  compo- 
sure; nor  could  either  the  pangs  he  endured,  nor 
the  certain  prospect  of  a  lingering  death,  draw 
from  him  a  word  of  complaint.  He  smiled 
gratefully  as  Prairie-bird  from  time  to  time  rais- 
ed the  refreshing  cup  of  water  to  his  lips,  or 
wiped  away  the  drops  which  weakness  and  ag- 
ony wrung  from  his  forehead.  Once,  and  once 
only,  did  a  look  of  gloom  and  discontent  pass 
over  his  countenance. 

Reginald  observing  t,  took  his  ha'id  and  in- 
quired, "  Is  there  a  dar«  thought  in  my  brother's 
heart,  let  him  speak  ii  V 

"There  is,"  replied  the  chief,  with  stern  en- 
ergy, "  Mahega,  the  bloody-hand— the  Washashe 
wolf— -the  slayer  of  my  tribe,  he  lives,  and  War- 
Eagle  must  go  to  the  hunting-fields  of  the  brave, 
and  when  his  fathers  say  to  him,  '  Where  is  the 
scalp  of  Mahega  V  his  tongue  will  be  silent,  and 
his  hands  will  be  empty." 

"His  hands  will  not  be  empty,"  replied  Regi- 
nald, breathing  his  own  impassioned  feelings  in 
the  figurative  language  of  his  friend.  "His 
hands  will  not  be  empty ;  he  can  shew  the  scalps 
of  many  enemies;  he  may  tell  the  ancient  peo- 
ple that  he  was  the  war-chief  of  their  race,  that 
neither  Wahashe  nor  Dahcotah  ever  saw  his 
back;  and  that,  to  save  his  sister's  life,  he  gave 
his  own.  Where  is  the  warrior  who  would  not 
envy  the  fame  of  War-Eagle,  and  who  would 
not  rejoice  in  the  glory  of  such  a  death  V 

These  words,  and  the  tone  of  earnest  feeling 
in  which  thev  were  spoken,  touched  the  right 
chord  in  the  heart  of  the  Chief;  he  pressed  the 
hand  of  his  friend,  and  a  smile  of  triumph  shot 
across  his  features  like  a  sunbeam  breaking 
through  the  thick  darkness  of  a  thunder-cloud. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

Miih6i;a  is  found  In  strnnge  company,  ond  Wingeniind 
defers,  on  accnuni  of  more  imporUint  concerns,  his  plan 
for  the  III)erilion  of  his  friends.— A  councii,  n  combat, 
and  n  tiirniisli,  in  which  Inst,  the  Crows  receive  ns- 
Bislance  from  o  quarter  whence  they  least  expected  il. 

We  left  Wingenund  on  his  way  to  the  Crow 
camp,  revolving  as  he  went  various  schemes  for 


the  deliverance  of  his  friends.  However  slight 
was  the  faith  which  he  was  disposed  to  place 
in  the  honesty  of  Besha,  he  confidentiy  believed 
that  the  horse  dealer's  self-interest  would  keep 
him  true,  at  least  for  the  time,  to  the  party 
whence  the  greater  rewards  and  presents  might 
be  expected.  He  knew  also  that  Bending-wil- 
low  was  kindly  disposed  towards  the  prisoners, 
and  would  do  all  that  was  in  her  power  towards 
engaging  her  impatient  and  hot-headed  husband 
to  favour  their  release.  Nevertheless  the  game 
to  be  played  was  a  difficult  one,  especially  as 
the  consequence  of  any  unsuccessful  attempt 
might  prove  fatal  to  them  as  well  as  to  himself 

So  intent  was  the  youth  upon  these  medita- 
tions, that  he  forgot  the  distance  anu  the  diffi- 
culties of  his  circuitous  route,  his  light  elastic 
step  bearing  him  over  hill  and  vale  with  a  speed 
of  which  he  was  scai'cely  conscious,  and  long 
before  the  sun  went  down  ho  found  himself  at 
the  farther  extremity  of  the  mountain  pass, 
which  has  been  before  mentioned  as  leading  into 
the  valley  where  the  Crows  were  encamped, 
from  a  quarier  exactly  opposite  to  that  where 
his  own  frieiids  were  stationed. 

As  he  was  about  to  step  across  a  small  rivu- 
let that  trickled  from  the  rocks  above,  lending  a 
greener  freshness  to  the  narrow  strip  of  grass 
through  which  it  flowed,  his  attention  was  ar- 
rested by  a  recent  footmark  upon  its  margin. 
Starting  with  surprise,  he  stooped  to  examine  it 
more  carefully,  it  was  plain  and  distinct,  so  that 
a  less  sagacious  eye  than  his  might  have  traced 
its  form  and  dimensions.  A  single  look  satisfied 
him,  and  as  he  rose  from  his  scrutiny,  the  name 
of  Mahega  escaped  from  his  lips. 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  resolved 
to  follow  the  trail  of  the  Osage  and  observe  his 
movements,  conjecturing  that  these  probably 
boded  no  good  to  the  Delaware  party,  although 
he  felt  at  some  loss  to  imagine-  what  object 
could  lead  him  to  a  quarter  almost  immediately 
opposite  to  that  where  they  were  encamped. 

The  task  which  Wingenund  had  now  under- 
taken was  not  an  easy  one,  for  the  ground  was 
hard  and  barren,  and  the  short  grass  partly  dried 
by  the  mountain  winds  and  partly  burnt  by  the 
summer  sun,  scarcely  received  any  impression 
from  the  pressure  of  a  foot,  and  the  youth  was  , 
compelled  to  pause  so  frequently  in  order  to  ex- 
amine the  scarcely  perceptible  marks  of  the- 
trail,  that  his  progress  was  far  from  being  so 
rapid  as  he  couW  have  wished.  Nevertheless 
he  toiled  persevering^'  forward,  his  hopes  being 
every  now  and  then  refreshed  by  finding  on  the 
descent  of  the  stee'i  hillside,  an  indication  of 
the  Osage's  tread  t.iat  .le  could  not  mistake. 

Wingenund  had  folljwed  the  trail  for  several 
hours,  when  he  caught  a  distant  view  of  a  slight 
column  of  smoke  rising  from  a  dell,  the  bottom 
of  which  was  concealed  by  interveni.ig  heights. 
One  of  these,  more  rugged  and  lofty  than  the 
rest,  lay  at  his  right  hand,  and  he  climbed  with 
some  difficulty  to  the  top  of  it,  in  hopes  of  being 
able  thence  to  descry  the  spot  whence  the  "moke 
arose.  Neither  was  he  disappointed  in  this  ex- 
pectation, for  on  reaching  the  height,  he  could 
see  into  the  deep  bosom  of  the  mountain  glen, 
where  he  clearly  discerned  a  large  body  of  men, 
and  horses,  assembled  round  a  fire ;  carefully 
notintf  the  nature  of  the  intervening  ground,  hf 
re-descended  the  hill,  and  again  threw  himself 


I 


% 


THE  P  R  A  I  R  I E  -  B  I  R  D: 


175 


upon  the  trail  of  the  Osage,  which  continued,  as 
he  expected,  to  lead  tiim  in  the  direction  of  the 
unknown  hand. 

As  he  advanced  he  felt  the  necessity  of  using 
the  greatest  caution  lest  he  should  inadvertently 
come  within  sight  of  any  scouts  or  stragglers 
from  the  valley  below  ;  but  fortune  and  his  own 
skill  so  far  favoured  his  approach  that  he  readied 
unperceived  a  point  whence  he  could  more 
clearly  see  the  circle  assembled  round  the  fire, 
and  could  distinguish  the  horses  and  the  men 
sufficiently  to  ascertain  that  they  belonged  to 
some  mountain  tribe  bent  on  a  war  excursion, 
as  they  had  with  them  neither  their  women  nor 
their  lodges.  With  awakened  curiosity  and  in- 
terest, the  youth  now  crept  to  a  spot  at  a  little 
distance,  where  a  confused  pile  of  huge  stones, 
here  and  there  overgrown  with  stunted  shrubs, 
offered  a  sheltered  retreat,  whence,  without  be- 
ing himself  seen,  he  could  observe  all  that  passed 
below.  In  making  his  way  to  the  place  he  was 
somewhat  surprised  to  lind  what  might  almost 
be  called  a  beaten  path,  upon  which  the  recent 
tracks  of  men  and  horses,  as  well  as  of  bison, 
were  clearly  discernible. 

He  had  scarcely  time  to  conceal  himself,  when 
he  perceived  two  men  coming  directly  towards 
his  hiding-place,  in  one  of  whom  he  recognised 
the  Osage  chief,  while  the  other  belonged  ap- 
parently tfl  some  tribe  of  Indians  that  he  had 
never  seen  before.  They  came  slowly  up  the 
path  before-mentioned,  stopping  almost  at  every 
step,  and  conversing  in  the  language  of  signs, 
by  which  means  their  expressions  of  mutual 
friendship  were  as  intelligible  to  the  quick-wit- 
ted youth  as  they  were  to  each  other.  The 
stranger  was  a  fine-looking  Indian,  and  though 
lower  in  stature  than  his  gigantic  companion, 
had  the  appearance  of  great  muscular  strength, 
and  his  dress  betokened,  according  to  Indian 
notions  of  magnificence,  a  chief  of  high  degree. 
His  black  hair  was  clubbed  behind  his  head,  and 
fastened  with  several  painted  feathers  hound 
with  fillets  of  ermine  ;  his  hunting-shirt  was  of 
the  skin  of  the  mountain  goat,  and  both  it  and 
his  deerskin  leggins  were  ornamented  with  por- 
cupine quills,  and  fringed  with  the  scalp-locks 
of  enemies  slain  in  battle ;  he  carried  in  his 
hand  a  long  lance,  also  decorated  with  scalp- 
locks,  and  at  his  back  hung  a  quiver  made  from 
the  skin  of  the  panther,  in  which  bristled  a  score 
of  arrows  beautifully  tipped  with  sharp  flint,  and 
attached  to  it  by  a  leather  thong,  was  a  bow  so 
short,  that  it  looked  more  like  the  plaything  of 
a  boy  than  the  deadly  weapon  of  a  warrior. 

Wingenund  wondered  to  what  tribe  the  stran- 
ger might  belong ;  and  as  the  two  Indians  seated 
themselves  upon  a  fragment  of  rock  only  a  few 
yards  from  the  recess  in  which  he  was  en- 
sconced, he  trusted  that  some  signal  would  pass 
by  which  his  curiosity  might  be  afterwards  sat- 
isfied ;  at  all  events,  it  seemed  clear  that  they 
were  already  upon  tiie  best  terms  with  each 
other,  for  they  smiled  and  grinned,  each  placing 
a  hand  upon  the  heart  of  the  other,  after  which 
Mahega  extended  his  arms  like  a  flying  bird,  and 
then  passed  his  right  hand  with  a  rapid  move- 
ment round  his  own  scalp ;  from  which  sign  the 
youth  instantly  knew  that  their  plot  was  to  at- 
tack and  kill  the  Upsarokas. 

"  Doulile-ton^ued    cowardly   snake!"    said 
Wingenund  to  himself,  "  he  made  a  league  with 


the  Dahcotahs  to  destroy  his  Lenape  friends, 
and  now  he  makes  one  with  a  stranger  tribe  ta 
destroy  those  with  whom  he  eats  and  smokes." 

That  the  youth  rightly  conjectured  the  object 
of  the  interview  he  could  no  longer  doubt,  when 
Mahega,  pointing  directly  to  the  valley  ^yllere 
the  Crows  were  encamped,  repeated  again  the 
signals  for  attack  and  slaughter  Not  a  word 
passed  during  this  time,  excepting  when  the 
stranger  drew  from  under  hib  hunting  shirt  a. 
small  whistle,  made  apparently  cither  fiom  a 
bone  or  a  reed,  and  quaintly  ornamented  with, 
stained  quills  and  the  down  from  the  breast  of 
some  mountain  bird  ;  having  applied  this  to  hi». 
lips,  he  drew  from  it  a  peculiar  srund,  not  re- 
markable for  its  shrillness,  but  difleient  from, 
any  tone  that  Wingenund  remembered  to  have 
heard  before. 

After  two  or  three  attempts,  Mahega  suc- 
ceeded in  sounding  it  correctly  ;  and  nodding, 
intelligently  tc  the  stranger,  concealed  it  care- 
fully in  his  belt ;  they  then  exchanged  the  names 
or  war-cry  by  which  they  were  to  recognize  each, 
other,  Mahega  teaching  his  new  friend  to  say 
"WuiArti'At,"  and  learning  in  return  to  pronounce 
Kain-na,"  which  he  repeated  three  or  four  times 
so  distinctly,  that  Wingenund  caught  and  re- 
membered it.  These  preparatory  civilities  having 
passed,  they  proceeded  to  the  interchange  of  pre- 
sents, by  which  their  alliance  was  to  be  cemented. 

Mahega  drew  from  his  girdle  a  pistol,  which 
he  gave,  together  with  a  small  leather  pouch 
containing  lead  and  powder,  to  the  stranger 
chief,  who  received  it  with  an  air  so  puzzled 
and  mysterious,  that  Mahega  could  scarcely  re- 
frain from  smiling.  He  turned  the  pistol  over 
and  over,  looking  down  the  barrel,  and  examin- 
ing the  lock  with  a  curiosity  that  he  cared  not, 
to  conceal ;  he  pointed  it,  however,  towards  a 
mark  in  an  adjoining  ruck,  and  made  a  sound 
with  his  lips,  which  was  intended  to  imitate  its 
report,  repeating  at  the  same  time  the  word 
"sachsi-nama,"  as  if  to  show  that  the  name 
and  use  of  the  weapon  were  not  strange  to  him, 
although  he  might  never  have  seen  one  befure- 
Mahega  then  proceeded  to  show  him  how  to  use 
it,  making  signs  that  with  it  he  might  kill  all  his 
enemies ;  and  upon  the  stranger  expressing  a 
wish  to  see  an  instance  of  its  power,  he  placed 
a  thin  flat  stone  at  the  distance  of  a  fe.v  yards, 
and  split  it  in  two  at  the  first  shot ;  ads  v '11011 
he  reloaded  it,  showing  at  the  same  f.i,i  the 
use  of  the  priming-pan  and  trigger. 

It  was  not  without  a  look  of  gratified  pride 
that  lie  placed  the  pistol  in  his  belt,  repeating 
again  and  again,  "  sachsi-nama,"  "  nahtovi- 
nama."  He  then  unslung  the  short  bow  that 
hung  at  his  back,  and  preser..-'  it,  with  the 
panlher-skin  quiver  full  of  arrows,  to  the  Osago 
chief,  who  received  the  gift  with  every  appear- 
ance of  satisfaction,  and  they  parted,  the  formei 
returning  towaids  the  encampment  of  his  tribe, 
after  he  had  told  Mahega  that  the  name  of  the 
bow  was  "  nutsi-nlma."" 

*  Of  all  the  Indian  nntlnna  who  Inhabit  the  v/ild  regions 
near  the  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  range,  the  mrwt  tierce 
ami  powerful  are  ihe  Blackfcet.  Few,  if  any,  white  mea 
have  penetrated  into  tlie  heart  of  tlieir  cimntry,  and  re- 
turned to  tell  their  tale.  Very  little  is  knmvn,  tlierefore, 
either  of  their  ciu^toms  or  language :  ami  It  may  not  be 
uniiiteri^ting  for  the  reader  lo  be  informed,  thfrt  every 
particular  mentioned  res|iectiiig  them  in  lhi«  volume  was 
obtained  direct  from  a  French  trader,  wlio  had  been  per 


176 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


r"ll 


For  some  time  after  the  departure  of  his  new 
ally,  the  Osage  remained  upon  his  seal  examin- 
ing the  bow,  which  at  first  sight  he  had  consid- 
ered a  mere  toy,  but  which  he  found,  to  his  as- 
tonishment, required  all  his  force  to  draw  it  to 
its  full  power.  Being  formed  of  bone,  strength- 
ened throughout  with  sinew,  it  was  stiff  and 
elastic  to  an  extraordinary  degree  -,  and,  al- 
though not  more  than  three  feet  in  length,  would 
drive  an  arrow  as  far  as  an  ordinary  six-feet  bow. 
When  he  had  sufficiently  examined  his  new 
acquisition,  it  occurred  to  the  chief  that  he  could 
not,  without  risk  of  detection,  carry  it  into  the 
Crow  camp.  He  resolved,  therefore,  to  hide  it 
in  a  dry  cleft  of  the  rock,  and  take  it  out  again 
after  the  issue  of  his  plot  should  be  decided. 

This  resolution  threatened  to  bring  about  an 
unexpected  catastrophe,  as  it  happened  that  he 
approached  the  very  recess  in  which  Wingenund 
was  stationed.  Drawing  the  knife  from  his  belt, 
the  youth  «tood  in  the  inmost  corner  of  the  cav- 
ern, r('_  as  300  as  discovery  became  inevita- 
ble, to  spring  upon  his  powerful  enemy  ;  but  fate 
had  other"  ise  decreed,  and  the  Osage  passed 
on  to  a  liigher  and  narrower  cleft,  where  he  de- 
posited the  quiver  and  the  bow,  carefully  closing 
the  aperti.i'    v'ith  moss  and  lichen. 

It  w:i6  II  ■■  until  l,e  hat*  gone  some  distance 
on  his  homcvavd  way,  that  Wingenund  emerged 
from  hie  iuding-place,  and,  having  possessed 
himsell  oi  the  quiver  and  bow,  returned  slowly 
upon  the  Osage"?  trail  towards  the  Upsaroka 
camp,  proving  as  he  went  the  surprising  strength 
of  the  weapon,  anU  admiring  the  stralghtness 
and  beauty  of  the  war-arrows  with  which  the 
quiver  was  supplied.* 

Following  unperceived,  and  at  some  distance, 
the  steps  of  the  Osage,  he  found  that  the  latter 
took  a  shorter,  though  a  somewhat  steeper  and 
more  rugged,  way  than  that  by  which  he  had 
come ;  so  that  very  little  more  than  two  hours 
of  brisk  walking  brought  him  within  sight  of  the 
■watch-fires  of  the  Upsaroka  camp,  just  as  day 
closed,  and  their  light  began  to  shine  more 
brightly  through  the  valley.  Availing  himself 
of  the  shelter  of  a  stunted  pine,  the  youth  lay 
down  for  some  time,  and  did  not  re-enter  the 
camp  until  late  at  night,  when  he  made  his  way 
•without  interruption  to  Besha's  tent,  giving  to 
the  outposts  by  whom  he  was  challenged  the 
counteisign  taught  him  by  the  horse-dealer. 

On  the  following  morning,  before  sunrise, 
Besha  was  aroused  by  Wingenund,  who  told 


iDltled  to  marry  a  Diack-foot  wife,  and  hnd  resided  nine- 
tern  years  among  ttiem.  The  cnnatraclion  of  Uieir  lan- 
giume  is  very  remnrkabie,  and  winio  acconnt  nf  It  wniild 
<1oiibtles.i  be  gladly  received  by  pliilologl.sts ;  Imt  surh  a 
siihjecl  cannot  be  treated  in  "a  «ork  like  the  present. 
With  iiwpecl  to  tlie  words  referred  to  in  the  text,  it  will 
1>e  seen  that  they  show  the  synthetic  niiture  of  the  I  n- 
puage,  "aftmii"  btlnp  the  root,  and  sicnilylni!  a  wmpun. 
Ifencetaine  "  sukshidnin,"  tijle ;  liicrally,  "  heavy-wcai)- 
<j.i :"  'snksinfiina,"  pistol;  liternlly.  '•  lishtwea|)on  ■" 
"  nnhtovliifiiiia,"  wmider/ii',  or  mriUeinrmenjioit  ;  and 
"  niuiinltnii,"  literally,  useless  xoeopon  ,  wiiicli  I  ittcr  name 
has  probably  l)een  given  to  the;  lion  si-  the  lllack-feet 
have  learnt  the  superior  efflcnoy  of  fire-  i.nis 

*It  may  not  b'  generally  k;inwn  n  F.i  .pean  le-'.lers 
that  the  arrt.H'1)  used  l)y  the  ivestern  Imlians  arc  of  t«i 
isorts.  The  A»i«finir-orr,iir,  which  has  n  head  taiwring  in 
the  form  of  an  cctite  lozengi ,  and  fmn;y  secured  to  tlie 
shafi,  BO  na  to  he  easily  with.irnwn  IVom  a  wouiio.  r.nd 
th"  wni  iirrow.  sometimes  iioisoned,  ( iit  nhvi.y.^  linrlK^d 
like  a  fish-hook,  and  huvin;:  its  head  »n  sllghily  fHs.ened 
to  0\-.  ahnft.  ai  i«  rem;\in  inflxed  In  the  wounil  when  tlie 
tvuod  is  puUvd  uot 


him  that  he  had  news  of  great  importance  to 
communicate  to  the  Crow  chiefs,  and  that  no 
time  should  be  lost  before  tliey  were  summoned 
to  council.     The  horse-dealer  rubbed  his  eyes, 
is  he  wakened  by  degrees,  .ind  listened  to  this 
ii.telligence,  which  he  suspeuted  at  first  to  be 
some  trick  on  the  part  of  the  youth  for  the  liber- 
ation of  his  friends  ;  but  there  was  an  earnest 
simplicity  in  his  manner  that  carried  conviction 
with  it ;  and  Besha  endeavoured,  as  he  threw 
on  his  hunting-shirt,  and  fastened  his  belt,  to 
learn  from  the  youth  the  nature  and  purport  of 
his  intelligence.     The  latter  seemed,  however, 
to  be  in  no  very  communicative  mood  ;  he  mere- 
.y  replied,  "  Wingenund  speaks  not  the  Upsaro- 
ka tongue ;  let  Besha  repeat  to  the  council  word 
after  word  what  he  hears,  that  will  be  enough ; 
he  will  serve  both  the  Crows  and  the  Delawares, 
and  will  obtain  thanks  and  presents  from  both. 
Let  Mahega,  too,  be  called  to  attend  the  council." 
The  horse-dealer  havinj  departed  upon  his 
errand,  Wingenund  found  an  opportunity  to  de- 
tail briefly  to  Paul  Miiller  and  Ethelston  the 
discovery  that  he  had  made  on  the  preceding 
evening ;  but  it  may  well  be  imagined  that  he 
could  obtain  from  neither  any  information  res- 
pecting the  mountain  tribe  with  whom  the  Osage 
was  carrying  on  his  treacherous  intrigue. 

"  Let  my  son  boldly  speak  the  truth,"  said  the 
Missionary,  "and  leave  the  result  to  God." 

"  Wingenund  never  told  a  lie,"  replied  the 
young  Delaware  ;  and  the  bright,  fearless  ex- 
pression of  his  countenance  warranted  the  proud 
assertion. 

"  How  many  are  there  in  our  crowded  cities 
and  churches,"  said  the  Missionary,  looking  af. 
ter  the  youth  as  he  re-entered  the  horse-dealer's 
lodge,  "  who  dare  echo  that  speech  ?  yet  me- 
thinks,  as  far  as  memory  and  conscience  serve 
him,  he  has  said  no  more  than  the  truth.  I 
have  known  him  from  his  childhood,  and  believe 
him  to  be  as  much  a  stranger  to  falsehood  as  to 
fear." 

"  They  are  cousins-german,  my  worthy  friend," 
said  Ethelston,  "  and  generally  dwell  together ! 
I  wonder  not  at  the  affection  wh'ch  Reginald 
bears  to  that  youth  ;  nature  has  stamped  upon 
his  countenance  all  the  high  and  generous  quali- 
ties that  endear  man  to  his  brother.  Let  us  en- 
deavour to  be  present  at  the  council  which  is 
now  assembling;  we  have  been  such  quiet  pris- 
oners, that  perhaps  our  guards  will  allow  tis  to 
he  spectators  on  this  occasion." 

Besha  happening  to  pass  at  this  moment,  ob- 
taineu  for  them  the  desired  permission,  which 
was  the  more  readily  grar  ed  that  the  Craw 
sentries  themselves  were  desirous  of  seeing 
what  was  going  forward,  and  knew  that  no  dan- 
ger could  be  apprehended  from  the  two  imarnied 
captives.    The  spectacle  ihat  met  their  view 
when  they  issued  from  the  lodge  was  striking 
and  picturesque ;  runners  had  been  sent  through- 
out the  camp,  and  all  the  principal  chiefs,  braves, 
and  medicine-men  were  already  assembled  in  a 
semicircle,  the  concave  centre  of  which  was 
formed  by  the  lodge  of  White-Bull  ani'  his  father, 
the  latter  of  whom  had  put  on  for  the  occasion 
a  magnificent  head-dress  of  painted  eagle-feath- 
ers, which  betokened  his  rank  as  head-chief 
of  the  band.    The  horse-dealer  stood  in  front 
of  his  own  lodge  to  the  left,  and  frequent  were 
the  glances  directed  to  him  from  all  quarters,  it 


away  to  f 
j)l;iy  with 
inj,'  the  s( 

The  v« 
turned  th 
ine,  in  a 
circle, 
of  the  Up 
ears  af 
horses  I 
toni,'ue.' 

Thus 
forward, 
council, 
travelled 
l<itows 
cut  of  hi 
the  Ups 
fools  ; 
th-^in. 
is  that 
seems  ; 
the  whit 
to  show 
iug  amo 

A  mil 
slia  pro 
Wingen 
the  hollt 
.".lul,  wii 
awaited 

The 


J,« 


THE   PR  AIR  IE- BIRD. 


177 


importance  to 
fs,  and  that  no 
ere  summoned 
ihbed  his  eyes, 
istened  to  this 
I  at  first  to  be 
iih  for  the  liber- 
vas  an  earnest 
ried  conviction 
d,  as  lie  threw 
led  his  belt,  to 
and  purport  of 
rued,  however, 
nood ;  he  mere- 
not  the  Upsaro- 
lie  council  word 
will  be  enough ; 
the  Dela  wares, 
eats  from  both, 
nd  the  council." 
larted  upon  his 
portunity  to  de- 
Ethelston  the 
the  preceding 
lagined  that  he 
nformation  res- 
ivhom  the  Osage 
intrigue, 
truth,"  said  the 
lit  to  God." 
ie,"  replied  the 
hi,  fearless  ex- 
ranted  the  proud 

crowded  cities 
[lary,  looking  af- 
le  horse-dealer's 
peech !  yet  me- 
icnscience  serve 
m  the  truth.  I 
lood,  and  believe 
D  falsehood  as  to 

y  worthy  friend," 
dwell  together! 
wh'ch  Reginald 
3  stamped  upon 
1  generous  quali- 
Ijer.  Let  us  en- 
council  which  is 
such  quiet  pris- 
will  allow  lis  to 

(lis  moment,  ob- 
rmission,  which 
that  the  Craw 
irous  of  seeing 
ew  that  no  dan- 
he  two  unarmed 
met  their  view 
;e  was  striking 
ensentthrough- 
il  chiefs,  braves, 
as^iembied  in  a 
of  which  was 
1  ani'  his  father, 
or  the  occasion 
•ed  eagle-feath- 
as  head -chief 
stood  in  front 
1  frequent  were 
I  all  quarters,  it 


having  been  generally  understood  that  the  coun- 
i!il  was  summoned  to  consider  matters  brought 
forward  by  him.  Behind  him  stood  Wingenuiid, 
wrapped  in  a  loose  blanket,  which  partially  con- 
cealed his  featui'ss  and  covered  entirely  the  rest 
jf  his  person  ;  on  the  opposite  wing  of  the  cir- 
cle, and  at  a  distance  of  iwenty-five  or  thirty 
yards,  stood  Mahega,  his  gigantic  stature  shown 
ofT  to  the  best  advantage  by  the  warlike  dress 
which  he  had  put  on  complete  for  the  solemi: 
occasion,  his  neck  and  arms  being  covered  with 
heads  of  various  colours,  and  hit-  fingers  pluying 
unconsciously  with  the  weighty  iron-pointed 
mace  or  war-club  which  had  s,!ain  so  many  of 
those  whose  scalp-locks  now  fringed  his  leathern 
ehirt  and  hose.  The  warriors  and  other  Indians 
of  inferior  degree  stood  in  the  back-ground,  and 
fiome,  anxious  to  get  a  better  view  of  what  was 
going  forward,  had  perched  themselves  upon  the 
adjoming  rocks  and  cliffs,  where  their  dusky 
forms,  dimly  seen  through  the  mists  which  were 
now  vanishing  before  the  beams  of  the  rising 
eun,  gave  a  wild  and  picturesque  efTect  to  the 
scene. 

Nearly  half  an  hour  was  consumed  by  the 
soothsayers,  or  medicine-men,  in  going  through 
their  formal  mummeries,  to  ascertain  whether 
the  hour  and  the  occasion  -vere  favourable  for 
the  proposed  business  ;  and  it  was  not  until  the 
niedieine-pipe  had  been  passed  rounil,  and  the 
■chief  functionary  had  turned  gravely  to  the 
north,  south,  east,  and  west,  blowing  tn  each 
<|uarter  successively  a  whiff  of  medicine-smoko, 
that  he  gave  his  permission  for  the  council  to 
proceed  with  its  deliberations. 

During  all  this  time  a  profound  silence  reigned 
throughout  the  camp,  the  women  suspending 
tlieir  scolding,  chattering,  and  domestic  avoca- 
tions, and  even  the  children  peeping,  half  fright- 
ened, from  behind  their  mothers,  or  stealing 
away  to  some  spot  where  they  might  laugh  and 
pl;iy  without  fear  of  being  whipped  for  dislurb- 
injf  the  solemnities. 

Tlie  venerable  father  of  White  Bull  now  re- 
tHriiod  the  great  pipe  to  the  medicine-men,  sav- 
ing', in  a  voice  distinctly  audible  throughout  the 
circle,  "  Beslia  has  called  the  chiefs  and  braves 
of  the  Upsaroka  together ;  they  are  come— tlieir 
ears  af .  open — let  the  one-eyed  man,  w  ho  brings 
horses  from  the  far  prairies,  speak  with  a  single 
toni^'ue." 

Thus  called  upon,  the  horse-dealer  stepped 
forward,  saying,  '■  Besha  is  neither  wise  in 
council,  nor  a  chief  among  warriors  ;  he  has 
travelled  far  among  the  eastern  tribes,  and  he 
knows  their  tongues ;  he  stands  here  to  give 
*ut  of  his  mouth  what  goes  in  at  his  ear.  Let 
the  Upsaroka  warriors  listen  ;  they  are  not 
tools  ;  ihey  will  soon  know  if  lies  are  told  to 
tli^'in.  Let  them  look  at  this  youth  ;  his  blanket 
IS  that  of  Besha's  slave ;  he  is  not  what  he 
seems ;  he  is  a  son  of  the  Lenape,  a  friend  of 
the  whites  ;  yet  he  is  come  alone  into  the  camp 
to  show  to  the  Upsaroka  that  a  snake  is  crawl- 
ing among  their  lodges." 

A  murmur  ran  through  the  assembly  as  Be- 
slia pronounced  these  words,  and  poi^ned  to 
Wingenund,  who,  throwing  the  blanket  into 
the  hollow  of  his  left  arm,  advanced  to  the  front, 
.".lid,  with  a  slight  inclination  to  the  old  chief. 
awaited  his  per.mission  to  proceed. 

The  youth,  the  graceful  form,  the  open  coun- 
M 


tenance,  and  the  dignified  hearing  of  Wlnge- 
nund  as  he  stood  forward  in  the  assembled  cir- 
cle, prepossessed  the  Crows  strongly  in  his  fa- 
vour ;  and  they  awaited,  with  excited  curiosity, 
the  intelligence  that  he  had  to  communicate  ; 
but  their  chief  did  not  appear  disposed  to  gratify 
their  impatience,  for  alter  whispering  a  few 
words  to  a  messenger  who  stood  beside  him,  he 
relapsed  into  silence,  scanning  with  a  fixed  gaze 
the  countenance  of  the  young  Delaware.  The 
latter  bore  the  scrutiny  with  modest,  yet  undis- 
turbed composure,  and  not  a  voice  was  raised 
in  the  council  until  the  return  of  the  messenger, 
conducting  a  Crow  doctor  or  conjuror,  some- 
what advanced  in  years,  who  took  his  station 
by  the  chief,  and  gave  a  silent  assent  to  the 
whispered  orders  that  he  received. 

It  may  well  be  imagined  with  what  minglei: 
feelings  of  surprise  and  indigna'Jon  the  haughty 
Osage  beheld  the  young  Delaware  thus  stand- 
ing (iirward  in  the  midst  of  the  council-circle ; 
that  his  presence  boded  no  good  to  liimsel.''  he 
well  knew ;  but  how  and  wherefore  he  came, 
and  why  he,  belonging  as  lie  did  to  a  hostile 
band,  was  thus  permitted  to  appear  before  the 
assembly  of  Crow  warriors,  he  was  quite  at  a 
loss  to  understand.  His  suspense,  however, 
was  not  destined  to  be  of  long  duration  ;  for,  as 
soon  as  Besha,  in  obedience  to  a  signal  from 
the  chief,  had  desired  Wingenund  to  speak  what 
he  had  to  say,  the  youth  came  another  step  for- 
ward, and  said,  in  a  clear  voice — 

"  There  is  a  snake  among  the  lodges  of  the 
Upsaroka — a  hidden  snake,  that  will  bite  before 
ils  rattle  is  heard." 

The  Crows  looked  from  one  to  the  other  as 
Besha  translated  this  sentence,  and  the  old  con- 
juror gave  a  slight  nod  to  the  chief,  indicating 
that  the  youth's  meaning  was  rightly  given.  It 
may  be  as  well  to  inform  the  eader,  that  the 
said  conjuror  had  in  early  life  been  taken  pris- 
oner by  the  Pawnee.'',  with  a  parly  of  whom  he 
had  been  conveyed  to  a  great  council  held  with 
the  Indian  agents  at  St.  Charles's,  m  Missouri, 
resfieciing  the  cession  and  appropriation  of  ter- 
ritory. Several  of  the  Wesleri;  Delawares  had 
beei,  present  at  this  meeting,  which  was  pro- 
tracted for  many  weeks,  and  the  Cr«w  prisoner 
had  picked  up  a  smattering  of  their  tongue, 
whicii,  however  slight  it  might  be,  had  occa- 
sioned him  to  be  sent  for  on  this  occasion  to 
check  any  propensity  for  untruth  ihat  might  be 
entertained  ty  the  horse-dealer.  Whether  the 
latter  was  influenced  by  these,  or  by  other  mo- 
tives, he  rendered  faitlifully  the  conrpisatinn 
that  ensued,  and  therefore  it  is  not  necessary  to 
notice  further  the  part  played  by  the  iiterpreter. 
"  Who  is  it  that  speaks  1"  demanded  the  old 
chief,  with  dignity  ;  "the  Crows  open  not  their 
ears  to  the  idle  words  of  strangers  " 

"  Then  let  them  shut  their  ears,"  replied  the 
youth,  boldly.  "  Before  another  sun  has  set, 
ihry  will  wish  they  had  listened  to  the  words  of 
Wingenund  !'' 

"  Who  is  Wingenund  t  Is  he  n>.  an  enemy  1 
have  not  his  people  shed  Upsaroka  blood  !  why 
then  should  they  believe  his  words?" 

•'  Wingenund  is  th*!  son  of  a  Lenape  chief. 
For  a  thousand  summers  his  fathers  have  hunt- 
ed over  forest  and  plain  beyond  the  Great  River. 
Wingenund  has  heard  of  their  deeds,  and  he 
will  not  stain  hid  lips  with  a  lie.    The  Lenape 


178 


THE    PR  AIRIE-DIRD. 


have  taker.  Crow  scalps  in  defence  of  their  own  ; 
Wingenund  will  not  deny  it ;  but  he  came  here 
to  serve  his  white  friends,  not  to  hurt  the  Up- 
saroka." 

On  hearing  this  bold  reply,  White-Bull  bent 
his  brow  fiercely  upon  the  speaker;  but  the 
youth  met  his  eye  with  a  look  of  bright  un- 
troubled confidence,  while  he  quietly  awaited 
the  chief's  further  interrogation. 

"  Let  the  son  of  the  Lenape  speak,  but  let  hi:n 
beware ;  if  his  tongue  is  forked,  the  Upsaroka 
knives  will  cut  it  out  from  his  head." 

"  Wingenund  is  not  a  woman,  that  he  should 
be  frightened  with  big  words.  When  he  speaks, 
the  truth  comes  from  his  lips ;  and  if  he  chooses 
to  be  silent,  the  Upsaroka  knives  cannot  make 
him  speak,"  replied  the  youth,  with  a  look  of 
lofty  scorn. 

"Is  it  so]  we  shall  see,"  cried  White-Bull, 
springing  forward,  at  the  same  time  drawing 
his  knile,  with  which  he  struck  full  at  the  naked 
breast  of  the  youth.  Not  a  muscle  moved  in 
the  form  or  countenance  of  Wingenund  ;  his 
eye  remained  steadily  fixed  on  that  of  the  Crow, 
and  he  did  not  even  raise  in  his  defence  the 
arm  over  which  his  blanket  was  suspended. 
Nothing  c  '1  1  iiave  saved  him  from  instant 
death,  had  >.>:  ^Vhite-Bull  himself  arrested  the 
blow  just  as  it  was  falling,  so  that  the  point  of 
the  knife  ■■<  ratched,  but  did  not  penetrate  the 
skin.  Wiiiffiii.iiid  smiled,  and  the  Crow  warrior, 
partly  iisl.i.iif'd  of  his  own  ehullltlRp  of  temper, 
and  imrtly  in  admiration  of  the  cool  courage  of 
thi'  y.'v.>'i|Er  Deiaw ire,  said  to  his  father,  "Let 
hiir,      .-ak  ;  ther«?  f.i""  no  lies  upon  his  tongue." 

'I'htj  old  mr^n  looked  for  a  moment  sternly  at 
ills  son,  as  !■  would  have  reproved  him  for 
his  violeii'.v,  iii  interrupting  the  business  of  the 
coimcil,  but  apparently  he  thought  it  better  to 
let  it  pass ;  and  turning  toward  Wingenund,  he 
said,  in  a  milder  tone  than  he  had  yet  used. 
"  Let  the  young  stranger  speak,  if  he  will ;  his 
words  will  not  be  blown  away  :  if  he  has  seen 
a  snake,  let  him  show  it,  and  the  chiefs  of  the 
TJpsaroka  will  owe  him  a  debt." 

Thus  appealed  to,  Wingenund,  slowly  raising 
the  forefing'^r  of  his  right  hand,  pointed  it  full 
upon  Mahega,  saying,  in  a  loud  voice,  "  There 
is  the  snake !  Ft,,  by  the  hand  of  the  Upsaro- 
ka, clad  in  their  gifts,  warmed  by  their  fire,  he 
now  tries  to  bite  l.iem.  and  giv.  them  over  to 
their  enemies,  even  as  his  black  heart  and  fork- 
ed tongue  have  before  destroyed  those  whom 
he  called  br  )the-s." 

It  is  beyond  th  j  power  of  words  to  paint  ,he 
rage  of  the  conscious  Osage,  on  hearing  this 
charge ;  he  nncealed  it.  however,  by  a  strong 
-  eflTort,  under  a  show  of  just  indignation,  ex- 
claiming aloud,  "The  Upsaroka  warriors  are 
not  fools,  that  they  should  believe  the  idle  words 
of  a  stranger  boy.  a  spy  who  stole  into  tho'; 
camp  by  night,  and  now  tickles  their  ears  witli 
lies." 

"The  young  Lenapn  must  tell  more,"  said 
the  old  chiof,  gravely,  "before  the  Up^.^roka 
can  believe  bad  things  of  a  warrior  who  has 
smoked  and  fought  with  them,  and  has  taken 
the  scalps  of  their  enemies." 

Thus  called  upon,  Wingenund  proceeded  to 
relate  distinctly  tlie  circuin.'^tances  narrated  in 
the  last  chapter.  His  tale  was  so  iilearly  told  ; 
his  description  of  the  locality  so  accurair,  that 


the  attention  of  the  whole  council  was  ri/eted, 
and  they  listened  with  the  most  profound  atten- 
tion. A  cloud  gathered  upon  the  brow  of 
White-Bull,  and  the  gigantic  frame  of  Mahega 
swelled  with  a  tempest  of  suppressed  passion. 
Independently  of  the  dangers  that  now  threat- 
ened him,  his  proud  spirit  chafed  at  the  thought 
of  being  thus  tracked,  discovered,  exposed,  and 
disgrace<l  by  a  hoy,  and  his  fury  was  heightened 
by  observinp  the  bright  eye  of  the  Delaware 
youth  fixed  ipon  him  with  a  steady,  searching 
gaze,  indicative  dt  once  of  conscious  truth  and 
triumph.  Still  he  resolved  to  hold  out  to  the 
last ;  he  trusted  that  after  the  great  services  he 
had  rendered  in  battle  to  the  Crows,  they  would 
at  least  believe  his  word  before  that  of  an  un> 
known  youth,  who  came  amongst  them  under 
such  suspicious  circumstances.  These  reflec- 
tions passing  rapidly  through  his  mind,  restored, 
his  disturbed  self-possession,  and  enabled  him 
to  curl  his  haughty  features  into  an  expressiott 
of  sneering  contempt. 

Great  was  the  excitement  among  the  Crowa^ 
as  Wingenund  described,  with  unerring  minute- 
ness and  accuracy,  the  dress  and  equipments  of 
the  stranger  with  whom  Mahega  had  held  the 
interview,  and  there  was  a  dead  silence  in  the 
council  when  the  interpreter  was  ordered  to  in- 
quire whether  he  knew  to  what  tribe  the  strange 
Indian  belonged. 

"  Wingenund  knows  not."  he  replied ;  "  but 
he  heard  the  name  that  was  taught  to  the  Osago 
as  the  balile-cry  of  his  new  allies." 

"  Echi-jii  td .'"  shouted  the  impetuous  White- 
Bull,  who  had  already  ^cognised  in  the  youth's 
description  one  of  the  warriors  of  the  Black-leet, 
the  hereditary  enemies  of  his  tribe 

•'  It  was  not  so,"  replied  Wingenund  gravely. 
"  Kain-na*  was  the  name ;  it  was  twice  spo- 
ken." 

A  deep  murmur  ran  round  the  assembly ; 
White-Bull  exchanged  a  significant  glance  with 
the  nearest  of  '.is  braves,  and  again  a  profound 
silence  reigne-J  throughout  the  assembly. 

Mahejja  now  felt  that  the  crisis  of  his  fat& 
was  at  hand,  and  that  everything  must  depend 
on  his  being  able  to  throw  discredit  on  the  tale 
of  Wingenund.  Tiiis  was  not,  however,  art 
easy  task,  for  he  suspected  Beslv  of  a  secret 
leaning  to  the  Delaware  side,  while  'he  fierce 
and  lowering  looks  of  the  bystander  shuwedi 
him  how  little  was  wanting  to  make  •  a  smoth- 
ered flam3  burst  forth. 

These  'ndicetions  did  not  escape  the  aged 
chief,  who  spoke  a  ;ew  words  in  a  serious  and 
warning  tone,  the  purport  of  which  was  to  re- 
mind them  that  the  present  council  was  sacred 
to  the  Medicine,  and  was  not  to  be  desecrated 
by  any  violence  or  shedding  of  blood.  He  con- 
cluded by  saying,  "  Let  the  Washashe  speak  for 
himself,  and  let  Besha  give  his  ords  truly,  if 
he  does  not  wish  to  have  his  ears  cut  off." 

Thus  admonished,  he  horse-dealer  lent  all 
his  attention  to  the  ■;j.«age,  who  came  forward 


*  The  niiiiii!  hy  whicli  the  Rinck-rcet  are  generally 
known  iiinoiig  iliu  Crows  i»  "  Echiiwm."  In  llieir  own 
umgiie  iheyciill  themselvc«Siksikii»r;i ;"  both  wiird»lmv- 
liiK  Ihfl  sitinificniion  of  BInck-lcei.  Thry  nre  divided  into 
ihren  bands,  the  l.irgcst  of  which  is  rnllcd  liv  the  generic 
niinic  iiliovK  iiipiuioncd,  ns  Dciiiu  ihiit  of  the  tribe ;  tho 
other  two  linnds  are  called  "HIeciin"  or  "PieBnn"'fthe 
ineanlni!  of  which  word  i  i  not  known  to  the  aiilhor)  and 
Kain  nn  or  "  Biondy-meti."  which  last  ore  held  to  be  the 
most  licrce  and  formidable  uf  the  three. 


cU  was  ri /eted, 
profound  alten- 
the   brow  of 
me  of  Mah^ga 
■eased  passion, 
at  now  threat- 
at  the  thought 
,  exposed,  and 
'as  heightened 
the  Delaware 
ady,  searching 
!ious  truth  and 
old  out  to  th& 
at  services  he 
^'s,  they  would 
that  of  an  un^ 
St  them  under 
These  reflec- 
niind,  restored. 
I  enabled  him 
an  expression 

•ng  tlie  Crows 
erring  minute- 
equipments  of 
had  held  the 
silence  in  the 
ordered  to  in- 
l)e  the  strange 

replied;  "but 
t  to  the  Osage 

etuotisWhite- 
in  the  youth's 
he  Black-teet, 

^nund  gravely, 
as  twice  spo- 

he  assembly  • 
nt  glance  with. 
)in  a  profound 
seml)ly. 
iis  of  his  fat& 
',  must  depend 
Jit  on  the  tale- 
however,  an 
■■  of  a  secret 
lile  'he  fierce 
ider  showed) 
ke  •  t!  smoth- 

ape  the  aged 
a  serious  and 
ch  was  to  re- 
il  was  sacred 
be  desecrated: 
"d.  He  eon- 
she  speak  for 
ords  truly,  if 
cut  off" 
ealer  lent  all 
^ame  forward 

il  are  Kenenitly 
In  their  own 
both  wnrdi  liav- 
are  divided  into 
d  l)y  the  generic 
f  the  irilie  ;  tho 
r  "PieBmi"  ftlie 
tlip  Hiilhor)  and 
re  licM  tu  be  the 


THE  P  R  A I  R I  E  -  B I R  D. 


flW 


to  address  the  council  with  an  imposing  dignity 
of  manner  that  almost  made  the  most  auspicious 
of  his  hearers  doubt  the  truth  of  Uie  accusations 
tirougtit  against  him. 

Being  now  in  front  of  the  semicircle,  which 
was  not  more  than  twenty  yards  in  width,  he 
was  directly  opposite  to  Wingenund,  who  stood 
forward  a  few  feet  in  advance  of  its  other  wing. 
The  contrast  offered  by  the  stature  and  bearing 
of  the  accuser  and  the  accused,  the  slight,  ac- 
tive frame,  the  youth  and  grace  of  the  one,  and 
the  haughty  air  and  gigantic  bulk  of  the  other, 
struck  Ethetston  so  forcibly  that  he  could  not 
forbear  whispering  to  Paul  Miiller,  "  Worthy 
Father,  does  not  the  scene  recall  to  mind  the 
meeting  between  the  Hebrew  shepherd  and  the 
Giunt  of  Gath  1" 

"  It  does,  my  son,  and  I  misjudge  the  looks 
of  the  Osage  if  they  part  hence  without  the 
shedding  of.  blood.  I  have  long  studied  his 
countenance,  and,  however  skilfully  he  has  sub- 
dued its  expression,  I  can  trace  the  full  storm 
of  passions  raging  within  his  breast." 

Further  discourse  was  prevented  by  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Osage's  speech,  which  he  de- 
livered with  a  tone  and  gesture  of  indignation, 
suitable  tu  one  who  declared  himself  injured 
and  belied. 

He  began  by  recapitulating  the  services  that 
he  had  rendered  to  the  Crows  the  faithful  war- 
riors that  he  had  lost  in  their  cause,  and  the 
valuable  presents  concealed  in  the  cache,  to 
which  he  was  even  now  conducting  them  ;  on 
the  ott^cr  hand,  he  painted  the  injuries  they  had 
received  from  the  Lenape,  who  had  come  into 
their  country  in  league  with  the  white-skins,  the 
bane  of  their  tribe  and  rai  e,  that  their  ham' 
were  still  wet  with  Upsaroka  blood ;  and  "  who.  i 
is  the  forked  tongue,"  said  he,  "  <hat  is*  to  covei 
with  lies  and  dirt  the  fame  of  f  lie  great  chief  of 
the  Washashe,  the  sworn  brotlier  of  the  Upsa- 
Toka  t  Who,  but  a  lioy,  a  stranger,  a  liar,  and 
a  spy,  telling  his  idle  dreams  to  the  council  to 
break  the  friendship  of  warriors  whom  his  cow- 
ardly tribe,  and  their  pale-faced  allies,  dared  not 
meet  in  the  field  ! " 

During  the  whole  of  this  tirade,  which  v;as 
delivered  v.  iih  much  vehemence  ami  gesticula- 
tion, Wingenund  stood  moiionless  as  a  status. 
his  calm  eye  fixed  upon  tlie  excited  countenance 
of  his  opponent  with  an  undisguised  expression 
of  contempt. 

Receiving  no  reply,  Mahega  continued: 
"Chiefs  and  brothers,  you  are  wise  in  council 
— men  of  experience ;  your  ears  will  not  he 
tickled  with  tlie  idle  songs  of  this  falHc-iongued 
sinping-bird ;  a  messenger  who  lirings  such 
news  to  the  great  council  of  the  IJpsaroka — who 
tells  them  that  their  brother  who  has  lought  by 
their  side,  and  smoked  at  their  tire,  is  a  forked 
BQike,  he  must  biiiig  something  btntcr  able  to 
convince  tlicm  than  the  cunning  woids  coming 
from  his  own  lying  lips !" 

These  words,  supported  by  the  commanding 
tone  assumed  by  the  Osage,  were  not  without 
their  tired  upon  the  tninds  of  that  fierce  and 
deeply-interested  assemblage. 

Wingenund  waited  until  the  speech  ol  iii^  a;.- 
tagonisl  had  been  tranblated  to  tliem.-when  he 
replied,  with  unmoved  composure,  "  If  the  Crow 
warriors  require  better  witness  tlian  wcirds,  it 
13  not  difficult  to  finJ  ;  they  have  already  been 


told  that  the  Kain-na  stranger  gave  to  Mahegs 
a  present  of  a  bow  and  arrows,  which  he  hid  in 
the  rucks  ;  Wingenund  look  them  out,  and  here 
they  are." 

As  the  youth  spoke  he  dropped  the  blanket 
that  had  been  thrown  over  his  left  arm  and 
shoulder,  holding  up  to  the  council  the  bow  and 
arrows,  which  all  present  instantly  recognisett 
as  being  made  and  ornamented  by  the  Black- 
feet. 

"Are  the  warriors  yet  convinced,"  continued 
the  youth,  raising  his  voice,  "  or  do  tliey  wish  for 
morel  if  they  th>,  let  them  seize  the  Washashe 
wolf,  they  will  find  in  his  belt — " 

He  was  not  allowed  to  finish  the  sentence ; 
the  storm  that  had  long  been  brooding,  novr 
burst  in  all  its  fury.  Mahega,  driven  to  despe- 
ration by  the  damning  evidence  brought  against 
him,  and  reckless  of  all  save  the  gratification 
of  his  fierce  revenge,  whirled  his  iron-pointed 
mace  around  liis  head,  and  launched  it  wUlt 
tremendous  force  at  Wingenimd. 

Never  had  the  latter  even  for  an  instant  taken 
his  falcon  eye  off  the  Osage  ;  but  so  swift  was 
the  motion  with  which  the  weapon  was  thrown, 
that  although  he  sprung  lightly  aside  to  avoid 
it,  the  spiked  head  grazed  and  laid  open  liis 
cheek,  whence  it  glanced  off,  and  striking  an 
unlucky  Crow  who  stood  behind  him,  felled 
him,  with  a  broken  arm,  to  the  ground.  Even 
in  the  act  of  stooping  to  escape  the  mace,  Win- 
genund fitted  an  arrow  into  the  Black-foot  bow 
which  he  hela  in  his  hand  ;  and  rising  quick  as 
thought,  let  it  fly  at  his  gigantic  adversary  with 
so  true  an  aim,  that  it  pureed  the  wind-pipe, 
and  ilie  point  came  oui  at  the  back  of  his  neck, 
clo.st:  to  the  spine.  While  the  Osage,  tialf 
strangled  and  paralysed,  tugged  ineffectually  at 
the  fatal  shali,  Wingenund  leaped  upon  hint 
with  the  hound  of  a  tiger,  and  uttering  aloHd 
the  war-cry  of  the  Lenape,  buried  his  knife  in- 
the  heart  of  his  foe  With  one  convulsiv«r 
groan  the  dying  Osagf;  fell  heavily  to  the  earth  ;. 
andere  thebystander.s  had  recovered  from  their 
astonishment,  his  blood-stained  scalp  hung  at 
the  belt  of  the  victorious  Delaware. 

For  a  moment  all  was  tumult  and  confusion  ; 
the  few  remaining  Osages  made  a  rush  towards 
Wingenund  to  avenge  the  death  of  their  chief, 
hut  they  were  instantly  overpowered,  and  se- 
cured with  thongs  of  pliant  bark,  while  White- 
Bull  sprang  intc  'he  arena  of  combat,  and  in  a 
voice  of  thunder  should  to  his  warriors  to 
stand  hack  and  unstring  their  bows. 

Durii ;;  the  brief  but  decisive  conflict  the  ap- 
pearanv'u  of  Wingenund  was  so  much  changed, 
that  Ethelston  declared  to  his  friend  after- 
wards that  he  should  not  have  recognised  himj. 
'I'lie  niusi'les  of  his  active  frame  swelled.  ^vl^Jl2i» 
(dxertion,  while  the  expanded  nostril  a>Kf  flash- 
in;f  eye  gave  tu  his  coiiuleiuiiic"  .m  i.X(..t»,;»«i 
of  fieroe  excitement»alt:iost  amounting  to  fero- 
city. Now  that  the  struggle  was  over,  he  resum- 
ed without  an  effiirt,  the  habitual  quiet  gentleness 
of  his  (lemeanour,  and  turning  to  Besha,  said, 
"  Let  the  Ups.«roka  cniefs  look  below  the  l)elt  of 
that  dead  woll ;  perhap.s  they  will  find  the  sig- 
'.lal  whistle  of  the  Ivainna." 

The  hnrse-deider  stooped  ;  and  .searching  as 
he  wasdirpcted,  found  a  small  loathern  ling,  on 
opening  wliioh  llierr  fell  out,  as  Winjrenuiid  had 
said,  the  whistle  of  the  Black-fgot  chief;  a  veil. 


180 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


I 


or  indignation  burst  from  the  assembly,  some 
ol"  the  nearest  of  whom  vented  their  rage  by 
bestowing  sundry  kicks  upon  the  inanimate  re- 
mains uf  the  treacliL'ruus  Osage. 

Popularity  is  a  plant  that  springs  up  as  sud- 
denly, and  perishes  as  rapidly  among  the  tribes 
of  the  western  wilderness,  as  among  the  mubs 
of  Pais  or  of  London  ;  and  Wingenund,  whose 
life  would  scarcely  have  been  safe  had  he  been 
found  an  hour  earlier  in  the  Crow  camp,  was 
now  its  hero  and  its  idol.  1'o  say  that  the 
youth  was  nut  elated,  would  be  to  say  that  he 
was  not  human ;  for  he  had  avenged  the 
slaughter  of  his  kindred,  and  had  overcome  the 
most  powerful  and  renowned  warrior  in  the  Mis^ 
kouri  plains,  the  fell  destroyer  of  the  race  of 
Tamenund.  But  so  well  had  he  been  trained 
in  the  school  of  self-command,  that  neither 
Ethelston,  nor  Paul  Muller,  who  had  known  him 
from  his  childhood,  could  trace  in  his  demean- 
our anything  different  from  its  usual  quiet  mod- 
esty ;  and  they  waited,  with  no  little  impatience, 
to  see  what  results  would  ensue  from  his  tri- 
umph in  respect  to  their  own  release. 

The  Crow  chiefs  and  warriors  did  not  forget, 
in  the  excitement  of  ihe  scone  just  described, 
the  threatened  attack  tp  which  the  treachery  of 
Mahega  had  exposed  them  ;  and  they  now 
crowded  rdUnd  Wingenund,  while  While- Bull 
put  many  questions  to  him,  through  Besha,  re- 
specting the  position  and  apparent  numbers  of 
the  Black-feet,  to  all  which  he  answered  with  a 
precision  that  increased  the  high  opinion  that 
they  already  entertained  of  his  quickness  and 
intelligence.  White-Bull  even  condescended 
so  far  as  to  explain  to  him  his  own  projects  for 
withdrawing  his  band  from  the  neighbourhood 
ef  the  formidable  Kainna  to  some  more  secure 
position.  A  slight  smile  curled  the  lip  of  the 
young  Delaware  as  he  said  to  Besha,  "The 
council  of  the  Crow  chief  does  not  seem  good 
to  Wingenund  ;  if  White-Bull  will  agree  to  his 
terms,  he  will  place  the  Kainna  chief,  and  half 
a  score  of  his  best  warriors  as  captives  in  this 
camp  before  lo-morrow  at  midday  !" 

A  general  murmur  of  surprise  followed  these 
words  ;  and  White-Bull,  somewhat  nettled,  in- 
quired wiiat  might  be  Ihu  terms  proposed. 

"They  are,"  said  Wingermnd,  "tirst,  that 
the  two  white  prisoners  shall  be  immediately 
restored  to  their  friends;  secondly,  that  the 
Osages  shall  be  given  up  to  the  Lenape ;  third- 
ly, that  ther?  shall  be  peace  and  friendship  be- 
tween the  friends  of  Wingenund  and  the  Upsa- 
roka  un;il  the  snow  falls  again  upon  the  earth  '" 

The  leaders  having  conversed  apart  for  a  le* 
Mimutes,  White-Bull  said,  "If  Wingenund  fails, 
and  tho  Kainna  take  many  scaips  from  the  Up- 
■aroka.  what  will  happen  then  1" 

"They  wil>  lake  the  scalp  of  Wingenund 
too,"  rei.icft  tiie  youth  calmly. 

Agrin  the  Crow  chiefs  consulted  together  for 
some  time,  and  at  length  tliey  resolved  to  agree 
to'  the  terms  proposed  by  Wingenund.  The 
medicine- pipe  was  brought,  and  was  passed 
from  the  chief  to  him,  as  well  as  to  Ethelston 
and  the  Missionary  ;  after  which  Wingenund 
said  to  Wliite-Bull.  "  There  is  no  time  to  be 
lost ;  let  si.xty  of  the  best  warriors  be  chosen, 
twenty  to  go  with  Wingenund,  and  forty  with 
White-Bull,  and  let  one  be  foimd,  very  large 
and  I  all ;  let  him  put  on  the  dress  of  Mahega  ; 


Wingenund  will  take  the  whistle,  and  all  will 
be  ready." 

A  short  time  sufficed  to  collect  and  marshal 
the  party ;  and  Ethelston  was,  at  his  own  earn- 
est request,  permitted  to  join  the  band  led  by 
the  Delaware  youth,  being  anxious  to  see  the 
manoeuvres  about  to  take  place,  and  Besha 
having  made  himself  responsible  fur  his  fidel- 
ity. 

Wingenund  led  the  way  at  a  swift  pace,  un- 
til he  gained  the  summit  of  the  lirst  range  of 
hills ;  nor  did  he  slacken  it  until  he  had  crossed 
the  valley  beyond,  and  stood  upon  the  opposite 
brow  of  the  heights,  whence  Ihe  Black-foot 
hand  was  visible.  Here  he  concealed  and  halt- 
ed his  party,  until  he  had  crept  forward  and  ex- 
amined all  the  range  of  hills  within  sight.  As 
soon  as  he  had  satisfied  himself  that  all  was 
quiet,  he  drew  his  parly  gently  on,  and  at  length 
succeeded  in  hiding  White-Bull  and  his  forty 
men  behind  some  rocks  in  the  steepest  and  nar- 
rowest part  of  the  gorge  leading  down  to  the 
glen  below.  His  quick  eye  had  noted  the  spot 
before,  and  a  more  minute  inspection  now  con- 
vinced him  that  there  was  no  other  pass  by 
which  the  enemy  could  ascend  the  height,  and 
that  a  handful  of  determined  men  might  'de- 
fend it  against  ten  times  their  number. 

Having  warned  White-Bull  to  keep  his  own 
men  close,  and  to  stir  neither  hand  nor  foot 
until  he  heard  the  Lenape  war-cry,  which  was 
the  appointed  signal,  he  retreated  with  his  own 
band  of  twenty  men  to  the  point  where  the  in- 
terview between  .Mahega  and  the  Black-foot 
had  taken  place,  which  was  about  forty  yards 
higher  up  the  mountain,  and  where  the  gorge 
was  almost  as  narrow  and  precipitous  as  at  the 
pass  below.  Here  he  concealed  his  men  among 
the  rocks,  and  Ethelston  primed  and  loaded 
three  rifles  which  they  had  taken  from  the 
Osages,  and  which  were  now  destined  for  the 
use  of  Wingenund  and  himself 

For  several  weary  hiiurs  the  youth  watched 
in  vain  fur  the  approach  of  the  Black-feet ;  and 
any  nerves  less  steady  than  his  own,  would 
have  been  shaken  by  the  remembrance  of  the 
disagreeable  consequences  that  might  result 
from  the  failure  of  his  plot.  He  lay,  howtver, 
still  and  motionless  as  the  stone  upon  which  his 
elbow  rested,  until,  just  as  the  grey  hue  of  even- 
ing was  beginning  to  steal  over  the  landscape, 
he  descried  an  Indian  slowly  asc.^nding  the 
sleep,  followed  at  a  distance  by  a  long  line  of 
warriors.  A  low  whistle  from  Wingenund 
warned  his  party  lobe  ready,  but  he  moved  not, 
until  tiie  advancing  hand  were  sufficiently  near 
lor  him  to  recognise  in  their  leader  th«  chief 
vvho  had  conferred  with  Mahega  on  the  preced- 
ing day. 

While  they  were  approaching  in  careless  se. 
curity,  the  Crows  prepared  for  the  attack,  each 
man  being  provided  with  a  tough  halter  of  bi- 
son-hide, in  addition  to  his  usual  weapons  of 
bow,  knit'e,  and  war-club,  and  the  leader  of  the 
Black-feet  had  already  passed  the  lower  gorge, 
(where  White-Bull  and  his  party  were  conceal- 
ed,) ere  he  sounded  the  signal  preconcerted 
with  Mahejja.  Wingenund  immediately  replied 
by  a  similar  sound  drawn  from  the  whistle 
which  he  had  secured,  desiring  at  the  same  time 
llie  Crow  who  wore  the  dress  of  the  slain 
Osage  to  show  himself  at  the  edge  of  the  rock 


h  "^ 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


181 


skirting  the  pass.  The  Black-foot  chief,  com- 
pletely deceived,  toiled  lazily  up  the  nteep  and 
narrow  aroent,  beckoning  to  his  men  to  follow ; 
and  just  as  he  reached  the  upper  station  Win- 
geniind,  seeing  ihat  twelve  or  fourteen  of  them 
were  now  fairly  caged  between  the  party  below 
and  his  own,  leapt  ftorn  his  connealinent  upon 
the  astonished  leader  of  the  Black-feet,  and 
dealing  him  a  blow  on  the  head  that  stunned 
and  disabled  him,  shouted  aloud  the  war-cry  of 
the  Lenape. 

No  sooner  was  the  signal  uttered,  than  White- 
Bull  rushed  from  his  ambuscade,  and  seized  the 
pass  below ;  so  that  the  unfortunate  Black-feet, 
enclosed  between  the  two  parties,  panic-struck 
by  the  suddenness  of  the  attack,  and  the  fall  of 
their  leader,  could  neither  fight  nor  fly ;  and  in 
spite  of  their  desperate,  but  unavailing  attempts 
at  resistance^  were  all  in  the  course  of  a  few 
minutes  disarmed  and  securely  bound. 

Meanwhile  tlio  main  body  of  liieir  comrades 
made  a  gallant  attempt  to  force  the  lower  paN-^, 
but  it  was  so  stoiuly  defended  by  the  Grow?^, 
and  was  in  itself  so  narrow  and  dillicult,  that 
they  were  soon  forced  to  ■.tire  with  loss.  Nei- 
ther could  those  who  sim  eeded  to  the  com- 
mand bring  them  again  to  the  attack.  The  war- 
cry  of  the  Lenape  had  never  before  been  heard 
in  ii.vse  glens,  and  the  dismayed  Black-feet 
thought  that  the  evil  spirits  were  fighting 
against  them ;  while  to  increase  their  terror, 
Ethelston  and  Wingenund  fired  two  of  the 
rifles  over  their  heads,  the  bullets  from  wliich 
whistled  past  them,  and  the  echoes  of  their 
report,  prolonged  by  the  rocks  and  crags  around 
died  away  at  length  like  the  muttered  thunder 
of  a  distant  storm.  Terrified  by  the  suddenness 
of  the  attack,  and  by  the  noise  of  the  fire  arms, 
ignorant  of  the  number,  position,  and  even  of 
the  nation  of  their  unexpected  assailants,  and 
fearful  that  another  manoeuvre  migiit  cut  off 
their  retreat,  they  fled  precipitately  down  the 
mountain  side,  and  halted  not  until  they  brought 
their  tale  of  disgrace  and  disaster  into  the 
Kainna  camp. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  hours  after  the  events 
above  narrated,  Wingenund  and  White-Bull 
stood  together  before  the  lodge  of  th?  aged 
chief  of  the  Crows,  whom  the  former  addressed 
as  follows: — "  My  father,  see  there  the  Kainna 
chief,  and  twelve  of  his  best  warriors ;  they  are 
prisoners ;  their  life  hangs  upon  my  father's 
breath ;  the  promise  of  Wingenund  has  not  been 
blown  away  by  the  wind." 

Besha  hiving  duly  translated  this  address, 
was  desired  by  the  old  chief  (whose  astonish- 
ment was  scarcely  exceeded  by  his  delight)  to 
bestow  the  higliest  praise  that  he  could  express 
upon  the  young  Delaware's  skill  and  courage ; 
to  which  effusion  of  ccinpliinentary  elwjuence  1 
he  replied,  "  My  father,  Wingenund   has  not 
seen  many  summers  ;  he  has  n  >  ukill  in  speech, ! 
nor  experience  in  council;  but  he  knows  that  i 
the  Great  Spirit  loves  a  single  tongue,  and  a  S 
true  heart.     Mahega  was  cunning  as  a  wolf, 
swilt  as  a  deer,  strong  as  a  bison-bull ;    but , 
there  was  poison  in  his  heart,  and  lies  dw    't , 
under  his  tongue,  like  8naii."s  under  a  smooth 
stone.     What  is  the  end  1    The  mountain-buz- 
zards pick  his  bones;  and  when   his  cliildren 
ask, — where  is  the  grave  of  Mahega!    there  i 
shad  be  none  to  answer.    My  father,  when  the  I 


I  sun  has  risen,  the  treaty  shall  be  made,  the 
'  pipe  of  peace  shall  be  smoked,  and  the  Medicina 
of  the  White  tent  shall  bring  many  go<.id  things 
to  the  Upsaroka." 

Having  thus  spoken,  Wingenund  retired  to 
the  lodge  of  Besha  ;  and  the  captive  Black-feet 
having  been  placed  under  a  guard,  White-Bull 
reitiainod  in  consultation  with  his  father,  while 
the  other  warriors  soon  forgot  in  sleep  the  ff 
tigucs  of  the  past  eventful  day. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

WIngcnunil  nnd  hiit  friends  return  lowarda  tlieir  cam|> 

A  svrliiiis  ndM'iitiirr  mill  n  Kcriuiis  Mrguiiiuiit  (i>'<'ur  lijr 
'      the  way. — Hliiiwlng,  also,  liiivv  Uio  oxiri'inim  of  griel', 
surprise,  nnil  Jiiy  iiiuy  lio  crowded  Into  the  Hpuce  uf  a 
few  niiiiuKM. 

TiiK  result  of  the  C()n.3ultatiun  between, 
White- Bull  and  his  father  was,  that  the  terms 
of  tlio  treaty  made  with  Wingenund  should  ba 
strictly  observed  ;  but  lest  the  ingenuous  reader 
should  be  misled  into  the  belief  that  this  resolu- 
tion was  influenced  by  any  considerations  jf 
good  faith  or  hcnie.sty,  it  may  be  as  well  to  in- 
form him  Ihat  the  advantages  and  disadvan- 
tages of  the  two  oriposite  courses  were  dis- 
cussed with  the  must  deliberate  calculation, 
and  the  path  of  honour  whs  at  length  selected 
upon  the  following  grounds  ; — 

First.  It  was  expedient  to  make  friends  with 
the  allied  band,  inasmuc-lt  as  the  latter  were 
formidable  enemies  froai  their  courage,  skill, 
and  equipment. 

Secondly.  They  had  many  bales  of  cloth,  blan- 
kets, and  other  goods,  oi'  which  they  would 
probably  make  liberal  presents  to  their  friends; 
and 

Thirdli/.  The  Crows  having  just  incensed  and 
triumphed  over  their  hereditary  foes  the  Black- 
feet,  they  might  expect  reprisals  from  the  latter ; 
in  which  event,  the  alliance  of  a  band  com- 
manding upwards  of  twenty  "medicine-fire- 
weapons,"  was  not  to  be  despised. 

Having  embraced  this  resolution,  and  com- 
municated it  by  secret  messengers  to  the  prin- 
cipal braves  and  conjurers,  the  worthy  sire  and 
son  summoned  them  to  a  grand  council  on  the 
following  morning,  at  which  the  treaty  was 
ratified  in  due  form  ;  Wingenund,  Paul  Miiller, 
and  Ethelston  representing  the  allied  band,  and 
each  party  loading  the  other  with  praises  and 
compliments,  until  the  oily  tongue  of  Besha  was 
almost  weary  of  translating  and  retranslating 
their  expressions  of  mutual  amity  and  fidelity. 

The  four  unhappy  survivors  of  Mahega's  band 
were  now  brought  forward,  their  arms  being 
securely  pinioned  behind  them,  and  Besha  in- 
quired of  Wingenund  his  wishes  concerning 
them.  It  needed  only  a  word  from  his  lips, 
and  they  would  have  been  stabbed,  burnt,  or 
more  slowly  tortured  to  death  on  the  spot. 
The  youth  looked  at  them  sternly  for  a  moment, 
and  Paul  Miiller  trembled  lest  the  vengeful  in- 
stinct of  his  race  should  guido  his  decision  ;  but , 
he  replied,  "Wingenund  will  take  them  with 
him  to  the  Lenape  camp.  War-Eagle,  Neti.s, 
and  the  Black  Fiither  sliall  Imld  a  eouncd,  and 
what  they  think  best,  it  shall  be  done." 

Ethelston,  x'aul  MuUer,  and  Wingenund  now 


IM 


THE  PRAlRIE-niRD. 


pr»'p;ityil  to  hid  adini  to  tlioir  f'row  friMKls,  it  I 
haviMK  l"'cii  ;ii,'rp«(l  that  Wliitc-Uiill,  iici-ompi- j 
BK.'il  Ity  Biiiiif  of  liiH  prin(M|);il  liriivcs,  sIkhiIiI  i 
viMii  ilic  Di'I.iw.ik:  ciiiiii)  DM  ilii'  fi>llowiii:(  (lay  I 
t<>  int<'r<-lmiv!;i'  iircsci  n,  iind  conlirrn  tli''  allinni't' 
Dins   liii|)|)ily    anil    iini  X|ii\a('dly   cuiniiii'iKN'd  . 
and  as  a  tiirilicr  proid'  nl'  liis  Iriciidly  disposiiiou, 
till!   t^row  oilier  piTDiittcd    Uciidinjf-wdlow  id 
i^nmd  u  ifirdltt  of  delieato   favvn-slvin,  adorntid 
'witli  fi'allicrs  and  stained  <|iiills,  tti  tlie  "(>r(.M' 
Mi'dicjiio  of  ilio  wliiio  tfiil.'' 

VViaafniind  had  still  kept  possession  of  thr 
three  O.saue  rill';j,  one  of  which  wus  in  tin- 
hands  ol'  Elh;  istoii,  and  the  other  two  lie  now- 
loaded,  and  (dl'ereil  oi.<;  lo  Paul  Miill(>r. 

"'Nny,  iny  son,"  said  tho  Missiuimry,  smiling, 
-"thp.se  iiaiulK  are  not  skilled  in  tho  iiso  uf  the 
ikclock  ;  neillier  do  they  desire  to  ho  noipiainted 
with  any  weapon  more  dangerous  than  this 
oaken  slafT  'I'he  8lit>ddin<;  of  human  hlood 
^vmlM  ill  hrseem  a  humble  minister  of  ihc 
<>ospel  of  Peace." 

"  Tho  words  of  the  Black  Father,"  said  the 
youth  respectfully,  "are  full  of  goodness  and 
truth ;  but  he  must  not  forget  that  the  path 
lies  over  rough  and  dangerous  places ;  that 
there  are  four  prisoners,  who  may  attempt  to 
overcome  or  escape  from  us,  and  that  we  may 
meet  enemies  by  the  way ;  therefore  Winge- 
tiuiid  w-ished  to  give  the  Ulack  Father  a  wea- 
pon to  defend  himself" 

"  The  motive  my  son,  was  natural  and  blame- 
less -,  nevertheless,  I  purpose  to  abstain  from 
Irandling  any  deadly  weapon,  and  to  entrust 
my  personal  safely  to  Him  who  has  so  inar- 
vc-Uously  preserved  us  throUi>h  trials,  captivity, 
MiA  dangers  innumerable.  My  children,"  con- 
tmued  the  worthy  man  in  the  English  tongue, 
"  before  we  depart  hence  to  revisit  oiirfricnds, 
let  us  together  thank  (iod  frr  the  great  mer- 
cies shown  unto  us  ;  let  us  implore  his  fur- 
ther protection  for  ourselves  and  all  de-iv  lo  w\  ; 
and  let  us  humbly  entreat  Him,  in  l\i«  o^vn 
£ood  time,  to  solten,  turn,  and  enl)j;iitPi(  f;  s 
hearts  of  those  benighted  children  oi  ?iie  u  m- 
derness,  so  that  they  may  hereiiitp;,  w.th  i,s, 
be  brought  to  His  heavenly  kingdom." 

As  he  said  these  words  the  venerable  VAs- 
sionary  dropped  upon  his  knees,  Ethelston  and 
"Wingenund  kneeling  beside  him,  while  he  utter- 
ed a  fervent  prayer,  which  embraced,  in  simple 
yet  eloquent  language,  all  the  objects  above  al- 
luded to. 

Great  was  the  Surprise  of  the  Crows  at  the 
attitude  of  the  three,  and  their  sudden  ahstrao- 
tion  from,  all  that  was  passing  around,  but  Bcsha 
having  whispered  to  the  chief  that  they  were 
talking  to  the  Great  Spirit,  he  made  a  signal  that 
profound  silence  should  be  observed,  fearful  that 
if  they  were  disturbed  or  anyways  annoyed, 
they  would  invoke  evil  uponhimself  and  his  tribe. 

The  prayer  was  concluded,  and  they  were 
about  paying  their  farewell  salutations'  to  tho 
chiefs,  when  the  tow  wailing  of  a  female  voice 
from  an  adjoining  lodge  caught  the  Missionary's 
«ar, — an  ear  to  which  the  accents  of  distress 
ever  found  immediate  entrance.  Having  desir- 
ed Besha  to  enquire  into  the  cause  of  her  com- 
plaint, he  learnt  that  she  was  the  w>i"e  of  the  man 
who  had  been  struck  down  by  Mahega's  war- 
club,  after  it  had  grazed  the  cheek  of  VVinge- 
liund,  and  that  her  husband  was  now  lying  in  a 


slateof  great  misery  and  siifTering.  In  «p  '  of 
a  gesture  of  iinpatienct!  from  the  UeliiwHie 
voulh,  wlio.se  feel  binned  to  be  upon  the  home- 
wiv  ,  path,  the  Missionaiy  approached  ihn  tiif- 
ferer,  and  carefully  ex;4iiiini'd  hift  condition.  He 
liiiind  that  ihe  lioiies  of  the  broken  arm  had  been 
joined  with  tolerable  Kkill  and  succcsts,  and  that 
It  wad  well  secured  by  h.tndages  to  a  straight 
Hplinler  of  pine- wood,  hut  wlieiher  owing  loihfl 
roughness  of  ihe  treatment,  or  the  pain  he  had 
undergone,  he  was  now  in  a  high  and  dangerous 
stale  of  fever.  The  Missionary  had  still  con- 
cealed in  his  girdle  a  small  bag,  containirjf, 
among  other  medicines,  a  few  powder.s  exaut- 
ly  adapted  to  the  emergeney  ;  of  ihese  he  mix- 
ed one  with  a  little  water,  and  having  given  it 
to  his  patient,  left  another  wf-*-  Besha,  desiring 
that  it  might  be  administered  at  noon,  and  that 
no  meat  should  he  given  to  him  until  the  follow- 
ing day.  "  With  these  remedies,  and  with 
the  blessing  of  the  Great  Spirit,"  said  he,  as  he 
retired,  '-  the  man  will  soon  be  well." 

"  Did  I  understand  rightly,"  said  Ethelston 
to  Wingenund,  "  that  White-Dull  comes  over 
to-morr(»w  wiih  his  braves  to  complete  the 
treaty  with  us,  niid  exchange  presents." 

"  It  Is  so  sesiled,"  replied  the  youth. 

"  Would  it  not  then  be  belter  to  let  him  and 
his  men  bring  with  them  the  Crow  prisoners, 
they  are  four  desperate  men,  and  only  we  two 
are  armed  ;  if  ihey  mutiny  by  the  way,  we  shall 
he  obliged  to  shoot  them  in  self-delemu'." 

"  My  brother  does  not  know  the  Washashe 
and  the  Upsaroka,"  said  VVingrniind,  smiling; 
"both  of  them  love  the  Pale-faces  and  the  Le- 
napfl  as  the  wolf  loves  the  deer.  No,  my  broth- 
er, let  the  prisoners  go  with  us ;  our  eyes  must 
be  open  ;  if  they  try  to  run  away  or  do  us  harm, 
the  rifle  must  keep  them  quiet." 

The  youth  spoke  these  words  in  a  low,  deter- 
mined tone,  and  Ethelston  feeling  that  he  could 
notgainsayiheirtrulh,  listened  while  Wingenund 
repeated  the  warning  to  the  Usages  in  their 
own  tongue,  informing  them  that  if  they  made 
the  slightest  attempt  at  escape,  or  demonetra- 
tion  of  violence  by  the  way,  they  would  be  in- 
stantly shut ;  a  sullen  and  silent  inclination  of 
the  bei>'l,  signifying  that  he  was  understood, 
was  the  only  reply  ;  and  once  more  g)\^eting 
their  Crow  allies,  the  little  party  moved  off  in 
the  direction  of  the  Delaware  camp,  Wingenund 
leading  the  way,  with  a  loaded  rifle  in  his  hand, 
the  Black-foet  how  and  quiver  slung  at  his  back, 
and  a  knife  and  pistol  taken  from  one  of  the 
Osages,  being  fastened  in  his  girdle ;  next  came 
the  four  prisoners,  with  their  arms  still  pinioned, 
4)ut  their  legs  entirely  it  liberty ;  Paul  Miiller 
and  Ethelston  Sirought  up  the  rear ;  the  latter 
carrying  two  to^i.led  rifles,  one  in  his  hand,  and 
the  other  slung  over  his  shoulder. 

It  was  a  beautiful  summer  morning,  the  grey 
mists  had  arisen  from  the  valley  and  curled  in 
spiral  folds  round  the  rugged  and  precipitous 
rocks  that  frowned  above  it.  Short  and  scant 
as  was  the  herbage,  still  as  it  glistened  in  the 
early  dew  and  hung  forth  its  diamond  drops  in 
the  sun,  it  imparled  a  touch  of  sweetness  to 
scenery,  ihe  dreary  barrenness  of  which  might 
otherwise  have  oppressed  the  mind  <.f  the  trav- 
eller with  a  feeling  of  desolation.  Never,  per- 
haps, over  that,  or  ove/  any  other  mountain 
track  passed  a  lighter  foot  or  a  more  rejoicing 


-^ 


TFIE   PR  AIR  IK-BIRD. 


183 


heart  tlian  that  ofouryonnR  friend  Wlngrniind. 
'i'lie  (lr«airi!i  of  Ixiyliooil,  (Irciiins  lliiU  a  ft'W 
Wfi'ks  ajfo  h"'  ha  1  hiiiisi'll  ilcfincd  visiotiiiry,  tir 
at  li;a«t  rni.u»"  w -re  iilreaily  accMiiipllsheil ,  he 
had  won  't.r  H'M  (tpiirs  of  Indian  liiivalry ;  in 
llie  ilancc.  <>r  ihu  uoutKMl.  or  the  (ieUI,  neither 
<';:vy  nor  'inaction  couhl  now  forbid  hid  mix- 
ing with  111.'  braves  and  warriors  of  hia  tritie; 
und  iH  licart  exulted  within  hiin  as  lie  tiiou){ht 
uf  presenlint;  lo  Neiinand  VVar-Ea({le  the  scalp 
of  their  arch  enemy,  iho  insolent  captor  of  Prai 
rie-hird,  the  Brcal  warrior  of  the  Osages,  nlain 
by  his  own  hand.  These  ware  feelings  which 
the  biiy-hero  could  shari'  with  none,  for  with 
Ethelston  ho  was  aa  yei  liivlo  acquainted,  and 
.Paul  Mullerho  knew  to  ho  averse  to  ail  thoughts 
of  strife  and  conflict;  still  the  feelings  ^rosa 
unchecked  and  unre|>ressed  within  his  bosii.ii 
when  he  rememtiered  the  name  by  which  lie  was 
called,  the  deeds  of  those  who  had  borne  it  bo- 
fore  him  ;  and  mingled  with  these  memories  of 
the  past  came  tlic  proud  reflection,  that  where- 
t;ver  the  Delaware  tongiio  was  yet  spoken  among 
the  bcal'.""^"l  hands  of  the  Ancient  People  on  the 
banks  of  liie  Mistioari  and  Ohio,  of  Susquehana 
and  Miami,  the  song  of  I.enape  warrior  and  Le- 
iiape  maiden  would  tell  how  the  scourge  of  their 
tribe,  Mahcga,  the  Bloody-haiul,  had  been  slain 
by  Wingenund,  the  broiher  of  War-Eagle  ! 

The  events  of  the  preciiding  days  had  been  to 
♦'le  youth  I  tie  realized  romance  of  his  life,  and 
as  he  strode  along  the  mountain-side,  ho  felt  as 
if  hi8  expanded  cliest  were  a  world  too  narrow 
for  the  high  emotions  that  swelled  within  it. 

Perhaps  it  may  seem  unnatural  to  the  reader 
tbat  amidst  all  the  excitement  of  awakened 
hope,  ambition,  and  exultation,  the  y-julh  for- 
got not  for  a  moment  the  perils  by  which  he 
was  surrounded.  It  is  our  business  to  describe 
the  Indian  character,  not  as  it  might  be,  if  de- 
signed "  to  point  a  moral  or  adorn  a  tale." 
but  as  it  IS,  with  all  those  lights  and  shades 
which  distinguish  it  from  that  of  white  men  ; 
and  one  of  the  most  remarkable  features — one 
•which  has  also  escaped  the  observation  of  those 
■writers  who  are  chiefly  quoted  as  authority  on 
this  subject — is  that  power  of  reserved  abstrac- 
tion which  the  mind  of  the  Indian  acquires  as  a 
result  of  an  early  and  constant  habit  of  control 
over  the  will.  Thus,  during  the  wildest  flight 
Of  his  imagination,  and  the  highest  aspirations 
•of  his  ambitious  hopes,  under  an  excitement 
which  ivould  have  rendered  an  English  youth  of 
his  years  blind,  and  deaf,  and  careless  for  a  mo- 
inent  of  all  that  was  passing  around,  the  quick 
«ye  of  Wingenund  roved  with  incessant  motion 
from  hill  to  vale,  embracing  every  hollow  that 
inight  contain  an  ambush,  and  every  crag  near 
bis  path  that  might  give  shelter  to  a  foe, 

Ethelston  conversed  little  with  the  Mission- 
ary, for  there  was  a  thought  which  lay  close  to 
his  heart,  and  made  its  pulses  throb  more  quick- 
ly at  every  step  that  he  made  towards  the  Dei- 
aware  camp.  Already  they  were  within  a  few 
miles  of  it  when,  in  p.issing  a'streamlet  that 
flowed  across  their  path.  Wingenund  suddenly 
turned  and  proposed  to  his  companions  to  re- 
fresh themselves  with  a  drink. 

Passing  the  Osages,  he  came  back  to  Ethel- 
ston, and  said  to  him,  while  the  Missionary  filled 
a  small  tin  cup  ^vlth  water,  "  My  brother's  eyes 
have  been  shut,  let  him  he  ready  now  :  one  of 


the  prisoners  is  free,  and  li.ii  almost  cut  tho 
liaiids  ol  a  Si'i'ond." 

Accustomed  to  dangers  and  em^.^eneies, 
Ethelston  did  not  start,  nor  take  any  oiitN.Hrd 
notice  of  the  young  Delaware's  ubservalioiib, 
l)ut  he  replied,  "  It  is  true,  1  have  been  heed- 
less, but  it  IS  not  too  late  to  repair  tho  error: 
seize  him  while  he  is  drinking;  I  will  secure 
the  others ;  do  not  take  life,  if  it  can  he  avoided," 

Wiiis(enund  look  tht!  hint  and  carried  tho  cup 
round,  ort'erin^'  a  draught  to  each  of  tin'  pinioned 
Osages,  without  appearing  to  notice  i  n  -severed 
thong  hanging  from  tho  wrist  of  the  one  who 
had  freed  hiiuself 

Thus  thrown  ofr  his  guard,  and  thinking  he 
was  unsuspected,  the  Osage  stooped  to  drink 
from  the  cup,  when  Wingenund  seized  him  with 
his  left  hand,  and,  presenting  a  pistol  to  his 
breaxt,  said  to  him,  in  his  own  tongue,  "  If  you 
stir,  you  I'ie," 

Keokle8,s  of  consequences,  and  despairing  of 
mercy  in  the  Delaware  camp,  ''"'  fierce  Osage 

wrench 

I'werful 

cinpt, 

tun's 

.1  the 


to 


sprang  upon  the  youth,  and 
the  pist(<l  from  his  gr.i-' 
man,  he  might  have  t^r 
\\ail  not  a  blow  liom  th< 
rille  hid  him  stunned   i: 
ground. 

The  three  other  prisoner  if  com- 

rade's helpless  condition,  ceased  truui  ihe  vio- 
lent eflorls  which  they  had  been  makinir  to  free 
themselves,  and  l»y  the  lime  that  he  had  recov- 
ered from  the  eflt'ctsof  the  blow,  his  arms  were 
pinioned  more  strongly  than  befure,  and  the 
thongs  by  which  the  others  were  fastened  were 
re-examined  and  secured. 

While  engaged  in  this  operation,  Wingenund 
showed  to  Ethelston  a  sharp  flint  with  which 
tho  Osagf  '.ad  cut  his  o.vn  bands,  and  had  be- 
j:un  to  separate  those  of  his  next  comrade  in 
tiie  line  of  march;  a  few  minutes  more,  and 
li  s  hands  would  also  have  been  free,  in  which 
( ,>.se  the  tfisk  of  our  two  friends  would  not  have 
proved  so  easy. 

Ethelston  well  understood  Wingenund's 
meaning,  as  the  latter  showed  him  the  half- 
cut  thong  on  the  wrist  of  the  second  Indian, 
and  he  said,  "  I  confess  I  was  bliiid,  my  ■,  oung 
friend,  and  am  ashamed  of  myself;  you  will 
have  but  a  low  opinion  of  my  taietits  as  a  war- 
rior." 

"  My  brother's  eye  may  have  wandered  a  lit- 
tle," replied  the  youth,  smiling,  "  becau.se  he  is 
not  skilled  in  the  Washashe- tricks ;  bnt  his 
heart  is  in  i!io  right  place,  and  his  hand  kiiow.s 
how  to  strike ;  a  few  suns  will  rise  and  set  be- 
fore the  skull  of  that  dog  forgets  what  my  broth- 
er bestowed  upon  it." 

"  It  was  time  lo  strike  hard,  because  I  did 
not  wish  to  strike  twice.  As  I  had  requested 
you  not  to  shoot,  I  felt  that  I  had  made  myself 
answerable  for  your  safety,  and  if  that  second 
fellow  iiad  succeeded  in  freeing  ins  hands,  we 
might,  have  had  some  troublesome  work  of  it. 
But  tell  me,  Wingenund,  how  did  you,  while 
walking  in  Iroiit,  discover  what  was  passing 
behind  you  "' 

"The  Usage  told  me  himself,'  replied  the 
youth,  again  smiling, 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  for  assuredly  he 
never  spoke," 

"  Not  with  his  tongue,  but  plainly  enough  v/ith 


;f. 


^■Aiii^j' 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


A 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


|5o  "^^     R^H 

■^  Uii   12.2 


lU 

u 


1^ 

■-     u 

U   1^ 


^- 


Photographic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STiiH 

weBSTn,N.Y.  i4sao 

(716)  •72-4S03 


%0 


184 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


■J? 


1 

\'~' 

) 

r 

1 

t 

<1 

^^j! 

l> 

! 

his  face.  I  looked  round  once  or  twice,  and  my 
eye  met  his ;  I  sdw  there  was  mischief,  for  he 
looked  too  good.  When  I  passed  to  ask  you 
for  the  cup,  I  looked  again,  quickly,  but  closer, 
and  saw  that  his  hands  were  free,  thougl^he 
kept  them  together  as  before." 

Ethelston  could  not  forbear  laughing  at  the 
youth's  notion  of  the  ill-favoured  Osage  •'  look- 
ing too  good,"  but  feeling  both  amused  and  in- 
terested by  his  replies,  be  again  said,  "  I  must 
own  my  admiration  of  your  quick-sightedness, 
for  doubtless  the  Osage  tried  to  make  the  ex- 
pression of  his  face  deceive  you." 

'*  He  has  not  the  face  of  an  Indian  warrior," 
said  the  youth,  scornfully.  "  When  a  deed  is  to 
be  done  or  concealed,  let  my  brother  try  and 
read  it  in  the  face  of  War-Eagle,  or  any  great 
chief  of  the  Lenape !  As  well  might  be  strive  to 
count  the  stones  in  the  deepest  cliannel  of  the 
great  Muddy  River,*  or  the  stars  of  heaven  in 
a  cloudy  night !" 

The  party  had  now  struck  a  broad  trail,  lead- 
ing across  the  valley,  and  up  the  opposite  height, 
in  the  direction  of  the  Delaware  camp  ,  the 
Osage  prisoners  were  therefore  sent  to  the 
front,  and  ordered  to  march  forward  on  the  trail, 
by  which  means  Wingenund  enjoyed  the  ad- 
vantage of  watching  their  movements,  while  he 
continued  to  converse  with  his  friends. 

"  I  own,"^aid  Ethelston,  "  that  I  had  not  be- 
fore considered  a  command  over  the  musclts 
of  the  countenance  as  being  a  matter  of  so 
much  importance  in  the  character  of  an  Indian 
warrior." 

'*  Nevertheless  the  youth  is  right  in  what  he 
says,"  replied  Paul  Miiller.  "  Where  cunning 
and  artifice  are  so  often  resorted  to,  a  natural 
and  unconcerned  air  of  candour  is  an  admirable 
shield  of  defence :  the  quickness  of  sight  which 
you  lately  observed  in  Wingenund,  is  a  heredi- 
tary quality  in  his  race.  The  grandfather  Ta- 
raenund  was  so  celebrated  for  it,  that  he  was 
called  by  a  name  signifying, '  The  man  who  has 
eyes  in  his  back :'  he  was  killed  only  twenty 
years  ago,  daring  the  fierce  irruption  made  by  a 
b&nd  of  the  five  nations  into  the  valley  of  Wyo- 
ming, to  which  the  old  man  had  retired  in  the 
hope  of  closing  bis  eyes  in  peace." 

"  I  have  heard  of  that  tragedy,"  said  Ethels- 
ton ;  "  indeed,  it  oocurred  wLile  I  was  at  school 
on  the  banks  of  the  Muskingum ;  and  oAen,  as 
the  boys  went  or  returned,  they  used  to  frighten 
each  other  with  cries  of  •  The  Indians !'  but  I 
have  since  been,  much  absent  from  my  own 
country,  and  never  rightly  understood  who  were 
the  actors  in  that  scene  of  terror,  and  what 
were  the  tribes  usually  known  by  the  name  of 
the  Six  Nations,  for  so  I  have  always  beard 
them  called." 

"  There  were  in  fact  only  five,"  replied  the 


*  The  MiMouri  fa  here  sUaded  to,  the  uicient  name  of 
which,  "PeUtanoui,"  ilgiilAes  "muddy  water,"  In  the 
language  of  the  Ililnobi,  once  a  moit  powerfhl  tribe,  dwell- 
ing near  iu  conflcen(«  with  the  MInlsiilppi.  They  have 
•ince  given  a  name  to  one  of  the  atalea  of  the  Union,  but 
not  one  gf  the  tribe  eurvivea  at  thla  day.  Some  antiqua- 
rians thinic  that  they  were  formerly  a  branch  of  the  great 
nation  of  the  Delaware*  (a  mppwition  conDnned  by  Uie 
resemblance  of  their  n,;'ae,  Il-lenni,  to  that  of  the  Lenni 
— Lenap^) ;  one  half  of  which  remained  on  the  great 
prairies  bordering  the  MiuisslppI,  while  the  other  half 
overran,  and  Anally  oeenpled,  the  greater  portion  of 
countnr  between  the  Ohio  and  ti  e  AUanUc— $«  Ckarh- 

VOTS  ire. 


Missionary ;  *■  for  although  the  Thscaroras  join'- 
ed  the  confederation^  they  did  not  originally  be- 
long to  it.  These  five  are  known  among  white 
men  by  the  following  names :  the  Mohawks, 
Oneidas,  Cayugas,  Onondagas,  and  Senecas; 
and  it  was  a  band  of  the  latter  that  made  the 
irruption  into  the  valley  of  Wyoming.  I  dare 
say  that  Wingenund  knows  more  of  them  than 
I  do,  for  he  often  heard'  Tamenund  speak  of 
them,  and  he  knew  their  history  like  the  tra- 
ditions of  his  own  tribe." 

"  Wingenund  has  not  forgotten,"  replied  the 
youth,  "  what  his  grandfather  taught  him  con- 
cerning the  Five  Nations.  The  names  spoken 
by  the  Black  Father  are  those  commonly  given 
them ;  but  they  call  themselves  otherwise." 

"  Tell  me,  Wingenund,"  said  Ethelston,  "  the 
names  by  which  they  are  known  among  them- 
selves 1" 

"  The  Mohawks  are  called  Coningionah ;  the 
Oneidas,  Cni-eut-kah — or,  *  The  people  of  the 
standing-stone ;'  the  Cayugas,  SenandaWanan- 
du-nab — 'The  people  of  the  great  pipe;'  the 
Onondagas,  Nundagekah — '  People  of  the  small 
hill ;'  the  Senecas,  Nundaw&-gah — '  People  of 
the  big  hill.'  But  the  councd  name  of  the  last 
is  different." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  the  council  name  1" 

"  Many  of  the  nations  have  more  than  one- 
name  ;  and  the  council  name  is  never  spoken 
except  by  the  chiefs  and  wise  men  in  council ; 
the  women  and  hoys  seldom  know  it ;  and,  if 
they  do,  they  must  not  speak  it." 

"  Did  Tamenund  tell  you  the  council  name  of 
the  Senecas  ?" 

*■  Yes ;  it  is  Oni-hnout^'  Those  who  shut  the 
door ;'  because  the  Senecas  live  the  furthest  to 
the  southwest,  and  guard  the  others  from  the 
approach  of  their  enemies."* 

"  It  always  appeared  to  me,"  said  Ethelston,. 
turning  to  the  Missionary,  "that  the  variety 
and  arbitrary  alteration  of  Indian  names  pre- 
sent an  insuperable  barrier  in  the  way  of  any 
inquiry  into  their  national  or  local  history." 

"  Certainly,  my  son ;  the  difficulty  is  greats 
and  proceeds  from  various  causes : — First,  be- 
cause it  is  frequently,  perhaps  generally,  the 
case  among  Indian  nations,  that  the  son  take»^ 
the  name  of  the  mother,  and  not,  as  with  us, 
that  of  the  father.  Secondly,  there  often  are, 
as  you  have  just  learnt  from  Wingenund,  two 
or  three  nstnes  by  which  the  same  person  or 
tribe  is  designated.  Thirdly,  nothing  is  more 
conunon  than  for  a  warrior  to  receive  a  new 
name  from  any  daring  or  remarkaUe  feat  that 
he  may  have  performed,  in  which  case  his  for« 
mer  name  is  dropped,  and  soon  forgotten  :  and, 
lastly,  it  must  be  remembered,  that  we,  Ameri- 
cans, Germans,  and  English,  hitve  obtained  the 
greater  part  of  our  Indian  nomenclature,  both 


*  Theie,  and  many  other  partieulan  respecting  the  8ix 
Nations,  the  author  had  from  the  lipaof  a  veteran,  who 
was  cnrried  off  as  a  child  by  the  Senecas  when  they 
sacked  Wyoming.  He  was  adopted  Into  their  tribe,  and 
lived  wiUi  them  the  greater  part  of  hit  life,  during  a  por- 
tion of  which  he  acted  for  them  in  the  capacity  of  Inter- 
preter and  Indian  agent :  nflerwards  he  retired  to  spend  a 
vigorous  and  green  old  age  in  the  wotom  part  of  the  stnto 
of  New  Yori(.  He  always  spoke  ^.Ith  affectionate  en- 
thusiasm of  his  adopted  kindred,  and  it  was  easy  to  see 
that  the  white  man's  blood  in  his  veins  circulated  thniiiKh 
an  Indian  heart.  Those  who  wish  to  know  more  of  thtt 
early  history  of  the  Five  Nations,  are  referred  to  the  ne- 
eiu^ls  and. interesting  account  given  of  them  by  Colder 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


186 


unoil  name  of 


w  to  persona  and  placea,  from  the  French ; 
who,  in  (be  varioua  capacities  of  possessors, 
adrenturers,  missionaries,  voyageurs,  hunters, 
and  interpreters,  have  overrun  almost  the  whole 
of  this  continent  before  us." 

"  Is  it,  then,  your  opinion  that  the  French 
travellers  and  writers  from  whom  these  names 
have  been  chiefly  derived,  have  been  very 
careless  and  inaccurate  in  their  transcription 
of  them  ?" 

"Extremely  so.  When  they  first  reached 
and  descended  the  Mississippi,  they  called  it  the 
'  Colbert ;'  afterwards  on  finding  what  a  mag- 
nificent  river  it  became  when  it  received  the 
waters  of  the  Missouri,  they  called  it  '  La  ri- 
viere St.  Louis,'  by  which  name  it  was  known 
for  many  years,  until  insensibly  it  recovered  its 
Indian  appellation.  When  the  adventurers 
came  to  any  unknown  tribe,  they  called  them 
by  some  name  descriptive  of  the  accidental  cir- 
cumstances under  which  they  first  saw  them, 
and  these  names  they  have  ever  since  retain- 
ed. Thus,  the  Winnebagoes  in  the  north  hap- 
pened, when  first  visited,  to  be  drying  fish  in 
their  camp,  and  thence  obtained  the  pleasant 
name  by  which  tbey  are  now  known, '  Jjes  Pu- 
ans  !'  Another  band,  some  of  whom  had  ac- 
cidentally been  scorched,  by  the  prairie  and  un- 
derwood near  their  encampment  taking  fire, 
have  ever  since  been  called  '  Les  Bois-brul^s ;' 
another, '  Les  Gros  Ventres.'*  The  Dahcotah 
nation  they  have  called  '  lies  Sioux ;'  the  Ari- 
cara, '  Les  Ris ;'  and  so  forth,  until  it  is  difficult, 
if  not  impossible,  to  recognize  any  of  the  origi- 
nal Indian  names  under  their  French  disguise." 

"I  grant  this,"  said  Ethelston.  "Yet  we 
must  not  forget  that  the  English  have  in  sever- 
al instances  laid  themnelves  open  to  the  same 
charge ;  otherwise  the  great  nation  to  which 
our  young  friend  belongs  would  not  have  been 
called  after  a  Norman  baron !  But  you  will 
surely  allow  that  the  early  French  missionaries 
in  North  America  were  men  of  great  piety, 
learning,  and  enterprise  V* 

"  It  is  true,  my  son,  many  of  them  were  so ; 
and  none  can  £ael  more  grateful  than  I  do  to 
auoh  of  tbeoa  as  laboured  sincerely  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Gospel.  Yet  I  am  bound  to  say, 
that  in  the  beat  authorised  account  which  they 
sent  to  France  from  Nalehez  of  the  surround- 
ing country,t  there  is  so  much  pedantry,  preju- 
dice, and  fancy,  mingled  with  highly  interest- 
ing information,  that  the  book  cannot  be  quo- 
ted as  one  possessing  historical  authority.  A 
writer  who  gravely  infers  that  the  Mississippi 
Indians  came  from  the  noklh-eastern  straits, 
from  the  identity  of  the  Choctaw*  wi(h  the  peo- 
pte  of  Kamohtot&  (or  Royaume  dea  Chactas), 
must  expect  that  some  of  his  other  arguments 
and  speculations  should  be  received  with  dif- 
fidence.— But  see,  wo  have  reached  the  sum- 
vmit  of  this  range,  and  Wingenund's  sparkling 
eye  is  already  fixed  upon  the  tent  of  Prairie- 
bird." 

"  There  it  is !"  said  the  youth ;  "  They  have 
moved  it  since  I  came  away,  and  placed  it  on 
that  point  nearer  the  stream." 

Little  did  he  suspect  what  had  occurred  da- 
ring his  brief  absence,  as,  with  a  foot  light  and 
elaatic  as  his  heart,  he  put  himself  at  the  head 


*  The  Mlnnetareei. 

t  Tilt  eatsbisMd  "  Lstttei  EdtfUntM." 


of  bia  little  party,  and  led  the  way  swiAly  to- 
wards the  camp. 

As  the  party  drew  near  the  camp  they  fell  ia< 
with  the  out- piquet  on  guard  in  that  quarter, 
consisting  of  one  of  the  Delaware  braves  and 
two  of  his  men,  to  whom  Wingenund  entrusted 
his  Osage  prisoners,  adding,  "  Give  them  water 
and  food,  but  let  them  not  escape." 

The  brave  look  full  in  the  face  of  the  youth,, 
then  his  eye  roved  from  the  scalp  at  his  belt  to 
the  pinioned  Osages,  and  a  grim  smile  played 
across  his  features ;  but  they  almost  instantly 
relapsed  into  the  grave  and  gloomy  expression 
that  they  had  before  worn ;  not  another  word 
was  spoken,  and  the  three  paased  on  towards 
the  white  tent.  As  they  drew  near,  they  saw 
a  group  of  hunters,  among  whom  were  Pierre 
and  Bearskin,  sitting  round  a  smouldering  fire, 
some  smoking,  and  others  engaged  in  mending- 
their  moccasins  or  cleaning  their  pistols  and 
rifles.  There  was  neither  joke  nor  song  amongst 
them ;  and  although  they  started  up  to  welcome 
their  rescued  and  returning  friends,  the  latter 
perceived  that  something  was  wrong,  and  it 
was  with  aching  and  foreboding  hearts  that 
they  returned  the  friendly  greeting,  and  passed 
onward  towards  the  tent,  before  which  they 
saw  Reginald  and  Baptiste  in  earnest  conver- 
sation. 

Reginald  no  sooner  saw  them,  than  he  sprang 
forward  to  embrace  Ethelston,  exclaiming, "  God 
be  praised  for  this  great  and  unexpected  com- 
fort I" 

Ethelston  looked  in  his  friend's  face ;  and  its 
expression  confirming  his  apprehensions,  his 
lip  grew  pale  and  trembled ;  he  gasped  for 
breatli,  as,  pressing  Reginald's  hand  within  his 
own,  he  said,  "  Speak — speak !  tell  me  what  has- 
happened  1"  then  pointing  to  the  tent,  he  added, 
"  Is  she  safe  1 — is  she  well  1" 

"  She  is  safe — she  is  well !"  refdied  Reginald ; 
"  Nevertheless — " 

Ethelston  heard  no  more,  but  a  deep  groan 
relieved  the  oppression  of  his  heart,  as  he  ejac- 
ulated, "  Blessed  be  the  God  of  Mercies  !"  and- 
covering  his  face  with  his  hamis,  stood  for  a. 
moment  in  silence. 

Reginald  was  surprised  at  this  extraordinary 
emotion  in  his  friend,  usually  so  composed  and 
calm,  and  at  the  deep  interest  that  he  took  in. 
one  whom,  although  betrothed  to  his  intended 
brother-in-law,  he  had  not  yet  seen.  But  ha- 
sdded,  gravely,  "  God  knows,  ny  dear  friend,, 
that  my  gratitude  is  not  leas  fervent  than  yours. 
Precious  as  her  life  is,  it  haa  however  been  ran- 
somed at  a  price  vlearer  to  me  than  aught  elso 
on  earth  besides  herself.  Wingenund,"  b» 
continued,  addres3ing  the  youth  and  affection- 
ately taking  his  hand,  "  you  are  the  son  of  a 
race  of  heroes ;  is  your  heart  firm  1  are  yoiu 
prepared  to  suffer  the  griefs  that  the  Great 
Spirit  thinks  fit  to  send?" 

The  youth  raised  his  dark  eyes  to  the  speak- 
er's face ;  and  subduing  by  a  powerful  effort 
the  prescient  agony  of  his  soul,  he  said  in  a 
low  toae,  "  Let  Netis  speak  on ;  the  ears  of 
Wingenund  are  ready  to  hear  what  the  Great 
Spirit  has  sent." 

"  Dear  Wingenund,  alas !  War-Eagle,  our  be- 
loved brother  is — " 

"Dead!"  interrupted  the  youth  letting  the^ 
butt  of  his  rifle  fall  heavily  to  the  ground. 


'h 


I 


>« 


..„-f'~-*''\^. 


136 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


I'  i' 


i 
k 


r  i 


"  Nay,  not  yet  dead,  perhaps  worse  than  dead ; 
for  he  is  hurt  beyond  all  hope  of  cure,  yet  suf- 
fers torture  such  as  none  but  himself  cuuld  en- 
dure without  complaint." 

It  was  fearful  for  those  who  stood  by  to 
>vitne88  the  agonising  struggle  of  emotions  that 
convulsed  the  frame  of  the  young  Delaware 
on  receiving  this  announcement ;  for  War-Ea- 
gle had  been  to  him  not  only  a  brother,  but 
father,  companion,  and  friend,  the  object  on 
whom  all  the  affections  of  his  young  heart  had 
been  concentrated  with  an  intensity  almost 
idolatrous ;  yet  even  in  the  extremity  of  an- 
guish he  forgot  not  the  rude  yet  high  philoso- 
phy of  his  race  and  nature ;  he  could  not  bear 
that  any  human  eye  should  witness  his  weak- 
ness, or  that  any  white  man  should  be  able  to 
say  that  Wingenund,  the  last  of  the  race  of 
Tamenund,  had  succumbed  to  suffering.  Ter- 
rible was  the  internal  conflict;  and  while  it 
-was  yet  uncertain  how  it  might  end,  his  hand 
accidentally  rested  upon  his  belt,  and  his  fingers 
closed  upon  the  scalp  of  Mahega  ;  instantly,  as 
if  by  magic,  the  grief  of  the  loving  brother  was 
crushed  by  the  stoic  pride  of  the  Indian  war- 
rior. 

"  War- Eagle  is  not  dead ;  his  eyes  shall  look 
upon  the  scalp  of  his  great  enemy  slain  by  the 
hand  which  he  first  taught  to  use  a  bow ;  and 
wUen  he  goes  to  the  hunlingfir-Ms  of  the  brave, 
our  fathers  may  ask  him, '  Where  is  the  scalp 
of  the  destroyer  of  our  race  V  "  Such  were  the 
thoughts  that  shot  like  wild-fire  through  the 
brain  and  through  the  breast  of  the  young  Dela- 
ware, as,  with  a  countenance  almost  haughty  in 
its  expression,  he  drew  up  his  graceful  form  to 
its  full  height,  saying,  "  Where  is  War-Eagle  1 
Wingenund  would  see  him.  Let  the  Black 
Father  go  too ;  perhaps  his  healing  skill  might 
avail." 

'*  I  will  not  deceive  you,  dear  Wingenund ;  no 
human  skill  can  avail  our  departing  friend.  He 
is  now  within  the  tent;  Prairie-bird  watched 
with  him  all  the  night ;  she  spoke  to  him  oflten 
words  from  God's  own  book,  and  they  seemed 
to  comfort  bim,  for  he  smiled,  and  said  he  wnulB 
gladly  hear  more.  She  has  retired  to  take  a  few 
hours'  sleep,  then  she  will  return  and  resume 
her  sad  but  endearing  task." 

"  Wingenund  will  go  to  him ;  but  first  let  Ne- 
tis  say  whence  the  wounds  of  War-Eagle  came. 
Have  enemies  been  near  the  camp  V 

With  the  eloquence  of  deep  feeling  Reginald 
briefly  related  the  circumstances  attending  War- 
Eagle's  devoted  and  htfroic  defence  of  Pra''v=-- 
bird  from  the  bears. 

Ethelston  and  Paul  Miiller  listened  with  .i^us- 
pended  breath,  and  as  he  concluded  exclaimed 
together,  "Noble,  brave,  and  generous  War- 
Eagle  !"  while  the  youth,  pressing  hi."  lips  to- 
gether as  if  steeling  his  breast  a.;jinst  softer 
impressions,  said,  in  a  low  tone,  "  'Twas  well 
done ;  few  are  the  warriors  whose  single  knife 
has  reached  the  heart  of  a  grisly  bear.  Let  us 
go  on  to  the  tent." 

Reginald  led  the  way,  and,  lifting  the  flap,  en- 
tered, followed  by  Ethelston,  Wingenund,  and 
Paul  Miiller. 

The  chief  was  seated  in  the  centre,  propped 
by  bales  of  cloth  and  fur ;  his  sunken  eye  was 
closed  from  sleeplessness  and  exhaustion,  and 
a  blanket,  loosely  thrown  over  his  shoulders. 


covered  the  emaciated  remains  of  his  once 
powerful  and  athletic  frame.  At  his  side  lay 
his  favourite  pipe,  his  war-club,  knife,  and  rifle ; 
while  the  faithful  Lita,  stretched  at  his  feet* 
strove  in  vain  to  restore  their  natural  warmth, 
by  applying  to  them  hot  stones  enveloped  in  the 
shreds  of  a  blanket,  which  she  had  torn  up  for 
the  purpose.  The  entrance  of  the  party  was 
not  unmarked  by  the  wounded  chief,  and  a  smile 
passed  over  his  wasted  features  when  he  un- 
closed his  eyes,  and  recognised  Wingenund  and 
the  two  others  whom  he  had  rescued  fiom  the 
Crows. 

"  The  Black  Father  is  welcome,"  he  said,  in 
a  faint  but  cheerful  voice,  "  and  so  is  the  friend 
of  Netis ;  and  War-Eagle  is  glad  to  see  the  face 
of  his  brother  Wingenund." 

We  have  seen  how  the  youth  had,  by  a  des- 
perate eflbrt,  nerved  himself  to  bear,  without 
giving  way,  the  description  of  his  brother's 
wounds  and  hopeless  condition ;  yet,  when  the 
feeble  tones  of  that  loved  voice  thrilled  upon  his 
ear,  when  his  eye  fell  upon  the  wasted  frame, 
and  when  he  saw  written  upon  that  noble  coun- 
tenance proofs  not  to  be  mistaken,  of  torture 
endured,  and  death  approaching,  the  string 
which  had  refused  to  be  relaxed  started  asun- 
der, and  he  fell  senseless  to  the  ground,  while  a 
stream  of  blood  gushed  from  his  mouth. 

Half-raising  hiinscK  by  the  aid  of  his  yet  un- 
wounded  arm,  War-Eagle  made  a  vain  eflbr^  to 
move  towards  his  young  brother,  and  his  eye 
shone  with  something  of  its  former  eager  lustre, 
as  he  said,  in  a  voice  louder  than  he  was  deem- 
ed capable  of  uttering,  '*  Let  the  Black  Father 
lend  his  aid  and  skill  to  the  youth ;  he  is  the 
last  leaf  on  the  UnAmi  branch ;  dear  is  his  blood 
to  the  Lenape." 

"  Dearer  to  none  than  to  me,"  said  the  Mis- 
sionary, raising  and  supporting  the  unconscious 
youth,  "for  to  him  I  owe  my  liberty,  perhaps 
my  life.  'Tis  only  the  rupture  of  a  small  blood- 
vessel ;  fear  not  for  him,  my  brave  friend,  he 
will  soon  be  better." 

While  Paul  Muller,  assisted  by  one  of  the 
Delawares  who  stood  at  the  entrance  of  the 
tent,  caiTied  the  youth  into  the  open  air,  and 
employed  .he  restoratives  which  his  experience 
suggestf  3  chief  mused  upon  the  words 
which  )  last  heard,  and  inquired,  address- 

ing hims  Reginald,  "  What  said  the  Black 
Father  oi  nis  life  and  liberty  being  given  by 
Wingfnundl" 

"  Tell  the  Chief,  Ethelston,  what  has  befallen, 
and  how  you  and  Paul  Miiller  were  rescued  by 
Wingenund.  In  my  deep  anxiety  for  my  suffer- 
ir>g  friend,  I  was  satisfied  with  seeing  that  you 
had  returned  in  safety,  and  never  inquired  how 
you  escaped." 

Ethelston  drew  near  to  the  wounded  chief,  so 
that  he  might  distinctly  hear  every  syllable  spo- 
ken, and  said,  "  War-Eagle,  as  surely  as  Prairie- 
bird  owes  her  life  and  safety  to  your  devoted 
courage,  so  surely  do  the  Father  and  I  owe  our 
lives  and  liberty  to  that  of  Wingenund.  Can 
you  listen  now,  and  follow  me  while  I  tell  yoa 
all  that  has  happened  1" 

The  chief  gave  a  silent  nod  of  assent,  and 
Ethelston  proceeded,  in  the  simple  language  of 
true  feeling,  to  relate  to  him  the  events  record- 
ed in  the  last  chapter.  At  the  commencement 
of  the  narrative  the  chief,  expecting,  probably, 


THE  PRAIRIE.  BIRD. 


I  that  the  escape  had  been  eifTected  by  some  suc> 
I  cessful  diaguise  or  stratagem,  closed  his  eyes, 
as  if  oppressed  by  the  torturing  pains  that  shot 
j  through  his  frame ;  but  he  opened  them  with 
I  awaliened  interest  when  the  scene  of  the  coun- 
cil was  described,  and  at  the  mention  of  Maho- 
I  ga's  name  he  ejaculated  "  Ha !"  his  counte- 
nance assumed  a  fierce  expression,  and  his  hand 
unconsciously  grasped  the  war-club  that  lay  be- 
side him. 

Reginald  listened  with  deep  interest,  and  even 
Lita,  who  had  hitherto  appeared  insensible  to 
everything  except  the  sufferings  of  her  beloved 
lord,  threw  back  the  long  hair  from  her  eyes, 
marvelling  what  this  might  be  that  so  excited 
and  revived  him ;  but  when  Ethelston  related 
the  catastrophe,  how  Mah^ga  had  thrown  his 
chib,  slightly  grazing  the  youth,  and  how  the 
latter  had,  in  presence  of  the  assembled  Crows, 
killed  and  scalped  the  great  Osage,  the  breast 
of  the  Delaware  warrior  heaved  with  proud 
emotions,  which  quelled  for  the  moment  all 
sense  of  the  pains  that  racked  his  frame ;  his 
eye  lightened  with  the  Are  of  other  days,  and, 
waving  the  war-club  over  his  head,  he  shouted, 
for  the  last  time,  the  war-cry  of  his  tribe. 

As  the  chief  fell  back  exhausted  upon  his  rude 
pillow,  the  gentle  voice  of  Prairie-bird  was  heard 
from  the  adjoining  compartment  of  the  tent,  call- 
ing Lita  to  explain  the  meaning  of  the  loud  and 
unexpected  cry  by  which  she  had  been  aroused 
from  her  slumber.  Lita  withdrew ;  and,  while 
her  mistress  made  her  rapid  and  silent  toilet, 
informed  her  of  the  safe  return  of  the  Black 
Father  and  Wingenund,  and  that  the  latter  hav- 
ing been  seized  with  a  sudden  illness,  the  friend 
of  Reginald  had  remained  by  the  chief,  and  had 
communicated  some  intelligence,  which  seemed 
to  affect  him  with  the  most  extravagant  joy  and 
excitement. 

So  anxious  was  the  maiden  to  see  her  beloved 
preceptor,  and  so  hastily  did  she  fold  the  kerchief 
in  the  form  of  a  turban  round  her  head,  that  sev- 
eral of  her  dark  tresses  e;  -aped  from  beneath 
it,  and  fell  over  her  neck.  The  first  dress  that 
came  to  her  hand  was  one  made  from  a  deep- 
blue  Mexican  shawl,  of  ample  dimensions,  given 
to  her  by  the  Missionary.  Fastening  this  round 
her  slender  waist  with  an  Indian  girdle,  and  a 
pair  of  moccasins  upon  her  delicate  feet,  she 
went  forth,  catching  up  as  she  lef\  the  tent  a 
scarf,  which  she  threw  carelessly  over  her 
shoulders.  Greeting  War-Eagle  hastily,  but 
affectionately,  as  she  passed,  she  flew  with  a 
glowing  cheek  and  beating  heart  to  the  spot 
where  the  Missionary  still  bent  with  anxious 
solicitude  over  the  reviving  form  of  Wingenund. 

"  My  father— my  dear  father !"  she  exclaim< 
ed,  seizing  his  hand ;  "  God  be  praised  for  thy 
safe  return !" 

The  venerable  man  embraced  her  tenderly, 
and,  ader  contemplating  for  a  moment  her  coun- 
tenanoe  beaming  with  filial  affection,  he  placed 
liis  outspread  hands  upon  her  head,  saying,  with 
impressive  solemnity,  "  May  the  blessing  of  God 
rest  iipon  thee,  my  beloved  child,  and  upon  all 
near  and  dear  to  thee,  for  ever!" 

Prairie-bird  bowed  her  head  meekly  while 
breathing  a  silent  amen  to  the  holy  man's  ben- 
ediction, and  then  turned  to  inquire  of  her  young 
brother  how  he  now  felt,  and  of  Paul  Miiller  in- 
to the  cause  of  his  sudden  illness. 


Wingenund  was  sufAciently  recovered  to 
speak  to  her  gratefully  in  reply,  and  to  press 
the  hand  which  she  held  out  to  him,  but  he  was 
much  reduced  by  loss  of  blood,  and  the  Mission- 
ary putting  his  finger  to  his  lips  enjoined  him 
quiet  and  silence  for  the  present.  He  continu- 
ed, however,  in  a  low  voice  to  explain  to  her 
the  strange  events  that  had  lately  occurred,  and 
how  he  and  the  friend  of  her  betrothed  owed  to 
the  heroism  of  Wingenund  their  life  and  liberty. 

While  the  maiden  liste.ned  with  absorbed  at- 
tention, every  passage  in  the  brief  but  eventful 
tale  was  legible  on  her  eloquent  countenance. 
As  Reginald  stood  at  a  little  distance  gazing 
earnestly  upon  its  changeflil  loveliness,  he  was 
startled  by  a  suppressed  ejaculation  from  some 
one  at  his  side,  at  the  same  time  that  his  arm 
was  seized  and  pressed  with  almost  convulsive 
force.  He  turned  and  saw  his  friend  Ethelston, 
who,  finding  that  War-Eagle  had  fallen  into  a 
tranquil  sleep,  had  stolen  out  of  the  tent  to  the 
side  of  Reginald,  where  he  first  caught  a  sight 
of  the  maiden  as  she  listened  to  the  Missionary's 
nairrative.  Reginald  again  observed  with  as- 
tonishment that  his  friend,  usually  so  calm, 
trembled  from  head  to  foot ;  his  eye  rested  up- 
on the  group  with  a  preternatural  fixedness,  and 
his  lips  moved  inaudibly  like  those  of  a  maa 
scarcely  recovered  from  a  trance.  "  Gracious 
heaven !  what  can  have  happened  !  Edward, 
you  are  not  surely  ill !  that  would  indeed  fill  the 
cup  of  our  trials  to  the  brim.  Speak  to  me,  let 
me  hear  your  voice,  for  your  looks  alarm  me." 

Ethelston  made  no  reply,  but  he  pointed  with 
his  finger  towards  Prairie-bird,  and  two  or  three 
large  tear-drops  rolled  down  his  cheek. 

While  this  was  passing,  Paul  Miiller  bad 
brought  his  tale  to  a  conclusion,  and  his  eye 
happening  to  light  upon  Ethelston,  he  continu- 
ed (still  addressing  Prairie-bird), "  And  now,  my 
dear  child,  it  only  remains  for  me  to  tell  you  the 
cause  of  our  beloved  young  brother's  weakened 
condition.  The  extremes  of  joy  and  of  anguish 
will  sometimes  sweep  before  them  the  mighti- 
est bulwarks  that  can  be  raised  in  the  heart  of 
man  by  his  own  unaided  strength.  Wingenund 
opposed  to  the  stroke  of  affliction  sent  from  on 
high  not  the  meek,  trusting  endurance  of  Chris- 
tian resignation,  but  the  haughty  resistance  of  . 
human  pride.  Already  he  sees  and  repents  his 
error,  and  the  mist  is  clearing  away  from  his  , 
eyes ;  but  yon,  my  dear  child,  have  been  better 
taught ;  you  have  learnt,  in  all  trials  and  in  all 
emergencies,  to  throw  yourself  upon  the  mercy 
of  your  heavenly  Father,  and  to  place  your  . 
whole  trust  in  His  gracious  promises  of  pro- 
tection. Wc  are  more  apt  to  forget  this  duty 
when  our  cup  overflows  with  joy  than  when  his 
chastening  hand  is  upon  us  ;  but  it  should  not 
be  so.  Promise  me,  then,  promise  me,  my  be- 
loved  child,  that  in  weal  or  in  woe,  in  the  rap- 
ture of  joy  as  in  the  extremity  of  sorrow,  you 
will  strive  to  remember  and  practise  it." 

Awed  by  the  unusual  solemnity  of  >iis  manner, 
the  maiden  bowed  her  head,  and  said,, "  I  pro- 
mise." 

Scarcely  had  she  said  these  words  when  Reg- 
inald came  forward,  leading  his  friend  Ethelston,  . 
who  had. by  a  strong  effort  recovered  from  his 
extreme  agitation,  and  regained  something  of 
his  usual  composure.  "  Prairie-bird,"  said  Reg- 
inald, "  I  wish  to  make  known  to  you,  my  most 


'  f 


■   /~ 


isa 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


faithrul  companion,  my  tried  and  attached  friend  | 
EtheUton.     You  must  love  him  now  for  my ' 
sake ;  wlien  you  know  him,  you  will  do  ao  for 
his  own  own." 

Leaning  on  the  Missionary's  arm,  the  maiden 
raised  herself  from  her  stooping  posture  to  greet 
the  friend  of  her  betrothed.  "I  have  heard 
much "  she  said,  with  her  sweet  natural  dig- 
nity of  manner ;  but  she  suddenly  stopped,  start- 
ing as  if  she  had  seen  a  ghost,  and  clinging  closer 
to  Paul  Muller's  arm,  while  her  earnest  gaze 
encountered  the  eyes  ofEthelstun  fixed  upon  her 
with  an  expression  that  seemed  to  shake  the 
nerves  and  fibres  of  her  heart.  To  Reginald 
their  silence  and  agitation  was  an  incomprehen- 
sible mystery ;  not  so  to  the  Missionary,  who 
still  supported  Prairie-bird,  and  whispered  to  her 
as  she  advanced  a  step  nearer  to  the  atraoger, 
"  Your  promise."  She  understood  him,  for  he 
heard  her  breathe  the  Almighty'«  name,  as 
Ethelston  also  advanced  a  step  towards  her ; 
and  again  their  looks  dwelt  upon  each  other 
with  a  fixed  intensity  that  spoke  of  thoughts  too 
crowded,  and  confused,  and  mysterious  for  ex- 
pression. At  length  Ethelston,  whose  strong 
and  well-balanced  mind  had  triumphed  over  the 
first  shock  of  emotion,  addressed  the  maiden, 
saying,  "  Have  the  latter  years  been  so  happily 
spent  that  they  have  quite  banished  from  the 
mind  of  Prairie-bird  the  memory  of  early  days  1" 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  the  maiden  started 
as  if  she  had  received  an  electric  shock ;  her 
bosom  heaved  with  agitation,  and  her  eyes  fill- 
ed with  tears. 

Again  the  Missionary  whispered,  "Your  pro- 
mise!" while  Ethelston  continued,  "Has  she 
forgotten  her  own  little  garden  with  the  sun- 
dial ?  and  poor  Mary  who  nursed,  and  dressed, 
and  taught  her  to  readi  Has  she  forgotten  the 
great  bible  full  of  prints,  of  which  she  was  so 
fond  ;  and  the  green  lane  that  led  to  Mooshannel 
Has  Evy  forgotten  her  Edward  V 

"  'Tis  he— 'tis  he !  'tis  Eddy !  my  own,  my 
long-lost  brother !"  cried  the  maiden  aloud,  as 
she  threw  herself  into  his  arms ;  and  looking  up 
into  his  face,  she  felt  his  cheek  as  if  to  assure 
herself  that  all  was  not  a  dream,  and  poured 
out  her  grateful  heart  in  tears  upon  his  bosom. 
She  did  remember  her  promise,  and  even  in  the 
first  tumult  of  her  happiness,  she  sought  and 
derived  from  Him  to  whom  she  owed  it, 
strength  to  endure  its  sudden  and  overwhelm- 
ing excess. 

"  'Tis  even  so,"  said  the  Missionary,  grasp- 
ing the  astonished  Reginald's  arm,  "  for  acme 
time  I  had  suspected  that  such  was  the  case ; 
Prairiebird,  my  beloved  pupil,  and  your  be- 
trothed bride,  is  no  other  than  Evelyn  Ethel- 
ston, the  sister  of  your  friend.  My  suspicions 
were  confirmed  and  almost  reduced  to  certain- 
ty, during  the  first  conversations  that  I  held 
with  him  in  St.  Louis ;  for  he,  being  several 
years  older  than  you,  rememberrd  many  of  the 
circumstances  attending  the  disappearance  and 
supposed  destruction  of  his  little  sister  by  the 
Indians,  when  his  father's  house  was  ravaged 
and  burnt.  I  foresaw  that  they  must  meet 
when  he  left  the  settlements  in  search  of  yon, 
and  though  I  prepared  him  for  the  interview,  I 
thought  it  better  to  say  nothing  to  her  or  to  you, 
but  to  leave  the  recognition  to  the  powerful 
voice  of  Nature.    You  see  the  result  in  that  fra- 


ternal embrace,  and  I  have  in  a  little  bag,  given 
to  me  by  Tamenund,  when  at  the  point  of  death, 
proofs  of  her  identity  that  would  convince  a. 
sceptic,  were  you  disposed  to  be  one  ;  the  cov- 
er of  a  child's  spelling  book,  in  which  her  name 
is  written  at  length  (possibly  by  Ethelston)  and 
a  little  kerchief  with  the  initials  E.  E.  in  the 
corner,  both  of  which  were  in  her  hand  when 
she  was  carried  ofT  by  the  Indians  who  spared 
and  preserved  her !" 

While  the  Missionary  felt  beneath  the  folds 
of  his  dark  serge  ro:>e,  for  the  bag  which  he  had 
always  carefully  kept  suspended  by  a  ribbon 
from  his  neck,  Reginald's  memory  was  busy  in 
recalling  a  thousand  indistinct  recollections  of 
early  days,  and  in  comparing  them  with  those 
of  a  more  recent  date. 

"  Well  do  I  remember,"  ho  exclaimed,  "miss- 
ing my  sweet  little  playmate  in  childhood  !  and 
how  all  allusion  to  the  terrible  calamity  that  be- 
fel  our  nearest  neighbour  and  friend,  was  forbid 
in  our  family  !  Scarcely  ever,  even  in  later 
years,  have  I  touched  upon  the  subject  with 
Ethelston,  fur  I  saw  that  it  gave  him  pain,  and 
brought  a  cloud  over  his  brow.  Now,  I  can 
understand  the  wild  and  troubled  expression 
that  came  across  her  countenance  when  she 
first  saw  me  near  the  Osage  camp,  and  first 
heard  my  voice,  and  how  she  started,  and  aller- 
wards  recovered  herself,  when  I  told  her  of 
Mooshanne !  How  blind  have  I  now  been  to 
everything  save  her  endearing  qualities,  and 
the  ten  thousand  graces  that  wail  upon  her  an- 
gelic form !  See  how  like  they  are,  now  that 
a  tide  of  feeling  is  poured  into  the  countenanco 
of  my  steady  and  composed  friend  !  Jealous 
as  I  am  of  her  time,  and  of  every  grain  of  her 
affection,  I  must  not  grudge  them  a  few  min- 
utes of  undisturbed  intercourse  after  a  separa- 
tion of  so  many  years  !  Come,  worthy  Father, 
let  us  employ  ourselves  in  tending  and  minis- 
tering to  War-Eagle  and  Wingenund,  and  let 
us  not  forget  that  to  them,  next  to  Heaven,  we 
are  indebted  for  the  life  and  happiness  of  every 
single  member  of  our  miraculously  re-united 
circle." 

"  You  have  a  warm  and  a  kindly  heart,  my 
young  friend,"  said  the  Missionary,  "  and  that 
is  a  blessing  without  which  all  the  other  bless- 
ings of  Heaven  may  fail  like  showers  upon  the 
Lybian  desert.  I  know  how  you  must  long  to 
pour  out  your  feelings  of  aff'ection  on  this  occa- 
sion to  your  friend,  and  to  your  betrothed ;  but, 
believe  me,  you  will  not  have  done  amisa  by 
following  the  first  promptings  of  your  heart. 
Let  us,  as  you  propose,  endeavour  to  soothe  and 
comfort  the  auflferers.  Wingenund  is  now  suf- 
ficiently recovered  to  listen  while  you  relate  to 
him  these  strange  occurrenoes ;  only  caution 
him  not  to  speak  too  much  at  present.  I  will 
return  to  the  side  of  War- Eagle,  and  although 
it  be  too  late  now  fur  us  to  attempt  any  remedy 
for  his  bodily  pains,  who  shall  limit  the  power 
of  the  Almighty,  or  circumscribe  the  operation 
of  his  hands  1  Who  knows  whether  He  may 
not  think  fit,  even  at  the  eleventh  hour,  to  touch 
that  stern  and  obdurate  heart  with  a  coal  from 
his  altar !  And,  oh  !  my  dear  young  friend,  if 
such  be  his  blessed  purpose,  I  would  not  forego 
the  privilege  of  being  the  humble  instrument  in 
effecting  it,  for  all  the  wealth,  the  honours,  the 
happiness,  that  earth  can  bestow."  *  ~' 


THE   PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


180 


little  bag,  given 
le  point  of  death, 
Duld  convince  a 
e  «»ne ;  tlio  cov- 
which  Jier  name 
'  Ethelston)  and 
lis  E.  E.  in  the 
her  hand  when 
ana  who  spared 

sneath  the  fold* 
a«  which  he  had 
ed  by  a  ribbon 
ory  waa  busy  in 
recollections  of 
hem  with  those 

Eclaimed,  "miss- 
childhood  !  and 
lalamity  that  be- 
■lend,  was  forbid 
r.  even  in  later 
le  subject  with 
e  him  pain,  and 
>:    Now,  I  can 
bled  expression 
ance  when  she 
camp,  and  first 
arted,  and  after- 
n  I  told  her  of 
I  now  been  to 
qualities,  and 
lit  upon  her  an- 
'  are,  now  that 
he  countenance 
iend !    Jealous 
ery  grain  of  her 
em  a  few  min- 
aAer  a  separa- 
worthy  Falher,^ 
ling  and  minis- 
;enund,  and  let 
to  Heaven,  we 
•piness  of  every 
lusly  re-united 

indly  heart,  my 
ary,  "  and  that 
he  other  bless- 
•wers  upon  the 
u  must  long  to 
n  on  this  occa- 
•etrothed;  but, 
done  amisa  by 
of  your  heart, 
r  to  soothe  and 
nd  ia  now  suf- 
I  you  relate  to 
;  only  caution 
resent.    I  will 
.  and  although 
pt  any  remedy 
nit  the  power 

the  operation 
ither  He  nnay 
hour,  to  touch 
h  a  coal  from 
'ung  friend,  if 
iild  not  forego 
instrument  in 

honours,  the 


Reginald  looked  after  the  worthy  Missionary 
until  he  disappea  ed  within  the  tent ;  then,  sigh- 
ing heavily,  he  aaid  to  himself,  ■*  If  zeal,  hon- 
esty, and  true  piety  can  render  any  human 
means  available,  assuredly  that  excellent  and 
holy  man's  at  empt  will  not  be  made  in  vain  ; 
and  yet  I  fear  that  nothing  short  of  a  miracle 
can  soften  or  subdue  the  stern  pride  of  War- 
Eagle's  spirit.  How  deeply  anxious  do  I  feel 
for  the  issue !  for  I  cannot  forget  that  it  was  in 
defence  of  Prairie-bird  that  he  incr  d  this  fear- 
ful tonure,  ending  in  an  nntime'  death !  His 
life  sacrificed  that  mine  might  be  happy  with 
her !  Where,  where,  my  generous  Indian  broth- 
er, shall  I  find,  among  the  cities  and  crowded 
haunts  of  civilized  men,  truth,  self-denial,  and 
devoted  affection  like  thine!  At  least  I  will 
strive  to  fulfil  the  wish  that  I  know  to  be  near- 
est thy  heart,  by  cherishing  in  my  bosom's  core 
thy  beloved  brother  Wingenund  !" 

Thus  meditating,  Reginald  sat  down  by  the 
young  Delaware,  and  strove,  by  awakening  bis 
interest  in  the  strange  events  lately  brought'  to 
light  respecting  Prairie-bird,  to  wean  him  from 
the  deep  deject' on  caused  by  his  brother's  hope- 
less plight. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

Ooslainliif  a  treaty  hetw«en  the  Crowi  nnd  Delairaret, 
•ad  the  death  of  so  Indian  chief. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  describe  at  length  the 
occupations  of  the  party  during  the  remainder  of 
this  eventful  day ;  how  the  re-united  brother 
and  sister  called  up  a  thousand  long-stored,  en- 
dearing remembrances ;  how  they  looked  upon 
the  childish  relics  preserved  by  the  Missionary ; 
and  how,  after  interchanging  a  rapid  but  inter- 
esting sketch  of  each  other's  history,  they  turn- 
ed again  to  share  with  him  and  with  Reginald 
the  melancholy  and  aflfecting  duty  of  attending 
upon  the  dying  chieftain.  His  sufllerings  were 
now  less  acute,  but  mortification  had  e.xtended 
itself  rapidly,  and  threatened  hourly  to  terminate 
them  altogether,  by  seizing  upon  the  vitals.  His 
mind  seemed  tranquil  and  collected  as  ever,  only 
the  watchful  Missionary,  observing  that  he  lis- 
tened more  attentively  to  the  voice  of  Prairie- 
bird  than  to  any  other,  he  yielded  his  place  be- 
•ide  the  dying  man  to  her,  entreating  her  to  spare 
no  eflbrts  that  mi|;ht  lead  him,  by  the  appointed 
path,  to  the  Fountain  of  Mercy. 

Willingly  did  the  maiden  resume  the  task  on 
which  she  had  been  employed  during  the  greater 
part  of  the  preceding  night ;  and  after  praying 
fervently  for  a  blessing  on  her  labours,  she  pro- 
ceeded to  explain  to  him'again,  in  his  own  lan- 
guage, some  of  the  simplest  and  most  affecting 
truths  of  the  gospel  dispensation. 

What  an  interesting  spectacle  for  the  con- 
templation of  a  Christian  philosopher !  A  hea- 
then warrior,  whose  youth  had  been  matured 
with  tales  of  fierce  reprisal  and  revenge,  whose 
path  in  life  had  been  marked  with  blond,  war 
being  at  once  his  pleasure  and  his  pride,  stretch- 
ed now  upon  the  ground,  still  in  the  prime  of 
manhood,  yet  with  shortening  breath  and  ebb- 
ing strength,  listening  with  deep  attention  to 
the  words  of  hope  and  consolation  pronounced 
by  the  lips  of  her  who  had  l)een,  through  life,  the 
secretly  treasured  idol  of  his  heart.    Perhaps 


this  earthly  love,  pnrifled  at  it  had  long  been 
from  passion,  and  ennobled  by  the  snoriflee  that 
he  had  made  to  friendship,  was  the  channel 
through  which  the  mysterious  influences  of  the 
Divine  Spirit  were  appointed  to  flow ;  for  his 
eager  ear  lost  not  a  word  of  whnt  she  uttered, 
and  his  heart  was  softened  to  receive  from  her 
lips  truths  against  which,  if  delivered  by  anoth- 
er, it)  early  prejudices  might  have  rebelled. 

Partly  by  the  religious  creed  of  his  race,  and 
partly  by  former  conversations  with  herself  and 
the  Missionary,  he  was  already  impressed  with 
a  just  view  of  the  principal  attributes  of  Deity — 
his  omnipotence,  goodness,  and  eternity.  Tho 
chief  endeavour  of  Prairie-bIrd  was  now  to  con- 
vince him  that  the  God  of  the  Christians  ad- 
dressed the  same  word,  the  same  promises  and 
invitations,  to  the  Indians  as  to  them,  ind  that 
they  also  were  included  in  the  vast  and  myste- 
rious scheme  of  redemption  ;  for  this  purpose 
she  translated  for  him,  into  the  Delaware  tongue, 
some  of  those  magnificent  passages  in  Isaiah 
wherein  the  Amighty,  after  declaring  this  unity 
and  irresistible  power,  sends  forth  his  granions 
promises  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth,  to 
the  isles,  to  the  wilderness,  to  the  inhabitants  of 
the  mountains,  and  those  that  dwell  among  the 
rock?,  and  concludes  with  the  assurance,  "I 
will  bring  the  blind  by  a  way  that  they  knew  not ; 
I  will  lead  them  in  paths  that  they  have  not 
known.  I  will  make  darkness  light  before  them, 
and  crooked  things  straight ;  these  things  will 
I  do  unto  them,  and  not  forsake  them." 

War-Eagle  listened  attentively,  and  gave  the 
whole  strength  of  his  mind  to  the  consideration 
of  the  subject  propounded  ;  some  of  these  truths 
he  had  heard  before,  but  they  had  taken  no  fixed 
root,  and  had  rather  been  dismissed  unheeded, 
than  weighed  and  rejected.  Now  they  present 
ed  themselves  under  a  very  different  aspect ; 
for  they  were  pressed  upon  him  with  the  most 
affectionate  earnestness,  by  the  one  whom  he 
looked  up  to  as  the  most  gifted  and  the  most 
guileless  of  human  beings ;  and  the  Black  Fa- 
ther also,  for  whom  he  entertained  the  highest 
esteem  and  regard,  h;.d  told  him  repeatedly  that 
every  truth,  everything  necessary  for  happiness 
after  death,  was  written  in  that  book  from  which 
she  was  now  reading ;  that  it  was,  in  short,  the 
written  command  of  Him  whom  he  had  from 
his  youth  addressed  as  the  Great  Spirit. 

Deeply  moved  by  these  reflections  (aided  as 
they  may  perhaps  have  been  by  the  operations 
of  a  mightier  influence),  the  chief  propounded  to 
his  young  instructress  several  inquiries,  which 
it  rejoined  her  to  hear,  as  they  indicated  a  soft- 
ened and  teachable  spirit.  Neither  were  they 
difficult  for  her  to  answer,  as  she  was  familiar 
with  almost  every  page  of  the  volun.e  before 
her,  and  thus  knew  where  to  seek  at  once  a  so- 
lution of  every  doubt  and  difficnity  that  occurred 
to  her  simple-minded  and  ingenuous  patient. 

While  she  was  engaged  in  this  interesting  and 
truly  Christian  task,  Reginald,  Ethelston,  and 
the  Missionary  sate  with  Wingenund,  and  strove 
to  soothe  and  tranquillise  the  agitation  into 
which  the  late  disaster  had  thrown  him.  Al- 
though somewhat  weakened  by  loss  of  blood, 
he  had  recovered  his  faculties  lioth  of  body  and 
mind ;  but  all  the  well-meant  endeavours  of  his 
friends  to  raise  him  from  the  deep  depression  of 
spirits  into  which  he  had  fkllen  were  exerted  in 


I 


100 


THE   PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


In 


bi 


I' 


f' 


^1 


vain.  He  replied  gently,  and  without  petulance, 
to  various  questions  that  they  put  to  him,  and 
then  sank  again  intu  desponding  gloom,  mu»ing 
over  the  fading  fortunes  of  hi*  lumily  and  of  his 
tribe — now  about  to  lose  him  who  was  the  pride, 
the  support,  and  the  glory  of  both. 

After  several  unauucessful  attempts,  Ethel- 
8ton  touched  at  length  upon  a  topic  which  had 
in  some  degree  the  effect  of  arresting  his  atten- 
tion and  engaging  the  more  active  powers  of 
his  mind  ;  for  on  reminding  the  youth  that  the 
Crows  were  to  visit  the  camp  on  the  morrow 
to  interchange  presents  and  conclude  the  treaty 
of  peace,  Wlngenund  proposed  to  Reginald 
that  he  should  summon  Baptiste  and  Pierre, 
and  concert,  with  their  advice,  the  course  that 
it  might  be  advisable  to  pursue. 

While  they  were  employed  in  considering 
and  discussing  deliberately  the  various  plans 
proposed,  Paul  Miiller  and  Prairie-bird  continu- 
ed sometimes  together,  and  sometimes  alter- 
nately, their  attendance  upon  War-Eagle,  whose 
strength  was  rapidly  declining,  although  his  in- 
tellect remained  clear  and  unimpaired.  Food 
he  was  unable  to  taste  ;  but  the  grateful  smile 
with  which  he  received  now  and  then  a  cup  of 
water  from  the  hand  of  Prairie-bird  tauched  her 
sensibly ;  and  there  was  a  serene  composure 
upon  his  countenance,  which  encouraged  her  to 
hope  that  his  mind  was  in  a  peaceful  frame,  and 
that  thoughts  of  war  and  strife  were  gradually 
giving  place  to  better  and  holier  meditations. 

The  sun  went  down,  evening  fell,  and  the 
darkening  hours  of  night  found  the  maiden  still 
unwearied  at  her  post,  seizing,  with  instinctive 
tact,  every  opportunity  offered  by  his  inquiries 
or  remarks  for  quoting  to  him  from  the  Book  of 
Life  some  appropriate  and  consoling  truth  ;  nor 
did  she  retire  to  rest  until  she  felt  assured  that 
exhausted  nature  had  extended  the  boon  of 
slumber  to  her  sufTering  patient. 

Not  even  then  did  the  faithful  Lita  quit  the 
place  that  she  had  chosen  at  the  .eet  of  the 
warrior  whom  she  had  so  long  worshipped  in  se- 
cret ;  noticed  or  unnoticed,  thanked  or  unthank-, 
ed,  whether  hungry,  or  thirsty,  or  sleepless,  all 
Tias  the  same  to  her.  In  life  her  love  had  been 
either  unknown  or  despised  ;  and  now  the  last 
faint  glimmerings  of  hope  were  to  be  extinguish- 
ed, without  even  the  wretched  consolation  of 
pity.  During  the  watches  of  that  night  there 
were  tears  upon  the  pillow  of  Prairie-bird  ;  the 
eyes  of  Wingenund  were  sleepless,  and  his 
heart  loaded  with  sorrow.  Sharp  and  frequent 
were  the  pangs  and  shooting-pains  that  broke 
the  rest  of  the  departing  Chief;  yet  was  there, 
perhaps,  none  amongst  them  all  whose  suffer- 
ings were  not  light  in  comparison  with  the  si- 
lent and  hopeless  anguish  of  the  Comanche 
girl. 

The  morning  dawned  with  all  the  fresh  beau- 
ty of  summer  in  that  mountain  region ;  and, 
agreeably  to  the  resolution  formed  at  the  coun- 
cil held  on  the  preceding  evening,  the  whole 
party  was  summoned  to  parade  with  their  best 
arms  and  accoutrements,  so  as  to  produce  upon 
the  Indians  a  due  impiessiun  of  their  formida- 
ble strengih,  at  the  same  time  that  various 
bales  were  unpacked,  from  which  were  select- 
ed the  presents  intended  for  the  principal  chiefs 
and  braves. 
No  great  change  had  taken  place  in  the  state 


I  of  War-Eagle,  but  Wingenund  had  spent  an 
hour  with  him  alone;  during  which,  amon| 
other  sulijects  of  greater  importance,  he  hadi 
mentioned  the  expected  visit  of  the  Crows,  aiid| 
the  conditions  of  the  treaty  which  it  was  pro- 
posed to  make  with  them.    To  these  the  Chief 
had  given  his  assent,  and  had  deputed  his  young  I 
brother  to  act  in  his  stead ;   aAer  which  ho] 
turned  again  with  renewed  eagerne^is  and  anxi-| 
ety  to  the  subjects  suggested  to  him  by  Prairie- 
bird  and  the  Missionary. 

The  sun  was  not  very  high  in  the  heaven, 
when  the  band  of  Crows  were  seen  descending  I 
the  hill  towards  the  encampment.  They  were 
led  by  White- Bull,  accompanied  by  Besha,  and 
were  only  twelve  in  number,  all  magnificentiy 
clad  in  dresses  of  deer-skin,  ornamented  with 
coloured  feathers,  stained  quills,  scalp-lobks, 
and  the  other  adjuncts  of  Crow  chivalry.  Be- 
sha apologised  for  the  scantiness  of  the  deputa- 
tion, staling,  that  during  the  past  night  an  at- 
tempt had  been  made  by  the  Blackfeet  to  res- 
cue their  prisoners ;  and  although  it  had  not 
l)een  successful,  the  Crows  could  not  venturer 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  such  dangerous  foes, 
to  weaken  the  defence  of  their  camp,  by  send- 
ing away  a  large  body  of  its  best  warriors.  To 
this  a  suitable  and  complimentary  reply  having 
been  made,  the  business  of  the  day  commenced 
by  presenting  food  to  the  Upsaroka  guests. 

A  circle  having  been  made,  the  white  hunt- 
ers were  ranged  on  one  side  of  it,  and  the  Del- 
awares  on  the  other,  the  former  being  all  armed 
with  rifles  and  pistols,  and  hunting-knives,  pre- 
sented a  very  warlike  appearance ;  while  the 
sinewy  and  weather-beaten  frames  of  the  lat- 
ter, armed  as  they  were  with  rifle,  war-club', 
and  scalp-knife,  inspired  the  observant  leader  of 
the  Crows  with  no  wish  to  bring  his  band  into 
hostile  collision  with  such  a  parly.  In  the  cen- 
tre were  seated  Reginald  Brandon,  Wingenund, 
and  Ethelston,  Pierre  having  taken  his  place 
near  the  latter,  and  Baptiste  occupying  his 
usual  station  beside  his  young  master,  and 
leaning  upon  his  enormous  hatchet.  If  the  in- 
tentions of  White-Bull  were  treacherous,  he 
found  no  greater  encouragement  to  his  hopea- 
from  a  survey  of  the  leaders,  men  of  powerful 
form,  and  grave,  determined  aspect,  with  the 
exception  of  Wingenund,  whose  youth  and 
slight  figure  might  have  led  a  stranger  to  fear 
iiim  less  as  an  opponent.  He  had,  however, . 
given  such  proof  of  his  skill,  courage,  and  ac- 
tivity in  Indian  warfare,  that  the  Crows  did  no» 
look  upon  him  with  less  respect  than  upon  the 
more  experienced  men  by  whom  he  was  sur- 
rounded. 

When  the  Upsaroka  deputation  had  finished' 
the  portion  of  bison-meat  set  before  them,  Re- 
ginald gave  them  a  treat,  sueh  as  they  had  nev- 
er beliire  enjoyed,  in  the  shape  of  a  tin-cup  full 
of  coffee,  sweetened  with  sugar,  which  they 
passed  round,  and  tasted  at  first  with  some  re- 
luctance, owing  to  its  dark  colour,  taking  it  fur 
"Great  Medicine."  AAer  sipping  it  once  or 
twice,  however,  they  seemed  to  find  it  more 
palatable,  and  drank  all  that  was  offered  to 
them,  and  then  the  pipe  was  lighted  and  smoked 
with  due  solemnity. 

When  these  preliminaries  were  concluded, 
the  business  of  the  day  was  entered  upon,  and 
was  conducted  with  equal  caution  and  distrust 


THE    PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


nd  had  apent  an 
Jig  which,  among, 
Iportance,  he  hadl 
T)f  the  Crowa,  aiid| 

ivhich  it  was  pro- 
to  Ihese  the  Chief, 
IdepuieU  his  younfr 

I  drter  which  he 
ferne^s  and  anxi- 
fo  him  by  Prairie- 

in  the  heaven, 
seen  descending 
lent.     They  were 
|Jd  by  Deaha,  and 
lall  maifnificently 
ornainenled  with 
Iiilia,  scalp-loblts, 
Iw  chivalry.    Be- 
^88  of  the  deputa- 
jiaat  night  an  at- 
[Blackfeet  to  rea- 
lough  it  had  not 
luld  not  venture, 
dangeroua  foea, 
r  camp,  by  aend- 
at  warriora.    To 
ary  reply  having 
day  commenced 
oka  gucata. 
the  white  hunt- 
■  it.  and  the  Del- 

r  being  all  armed 
ting-knivea,  pre- 

ance ;  while  the 

imes  of  the  lat- 
rifle,  war-club; 

servant  leader  of 

)g  his  band  into 

ty.    In  the  cen- 

lon,  Wingenund, 

taken  his  place 
occupying  his 

>g  maater,  and 

ihet.    If  the  in- 

treacheroua,  he 

nt  to  his  hope» 

len  of  powerful. 

spect,  with  the 

>8e  youth   and 

itranger  to  fear 
had,  however, . 

lurage,  and  ac- 

CrowB  did  no» 

than  upon  the 

n  he  was  sur- 

n  had  finished' 
fore  them,  Re- 

ihey  had  nev- 
f  a  tin-cup  full 
r.  which  they 
with  aome  re- 
r,  taking  it  for 
)g  it  once  or 

find  it  more 
as  offered  to 
d  and  smoked 

re  concluded, 
red  upon,  and 
I  and  distrust 


181 


CD  both  sides  ;  Beslia  being,  of  course,  the  in- 
terpreter, and  moulding  the  respective  commu- 
nications in  the  manner  moat  likely,  accordmg 
to  hia  viewa,  to  enaure  the  continuance  of  the 
truce  agreed  up<in  ;  becauae  he  had  been  most 
distinctly  warned  by  Wingenund,  that  he  would 
receive  no  preaent  until  all  the  terms  of  the 
treaty  were  duly  fultilled,  and  that  then  he 
might  expect  one  liberal  enough  to  adorn  the 
wigwam  of  a  chief.  The  crafty  horse-dealer 
had,  at  the  same  time,  contrived  to  persuade 
the  Crows  that  the  white  men  were  secretly 
disincHned  to  the  treaty,  and  that  they  could 
'>nly  be  induced  to  observe  it  by  his  own  cun- 
ning and  contrivance. 

This  being  the  relative  position  of  the  par- 
ties, it  may  well  be  imagined  that  the  diplomat- 
ic arrangements  were  neither  very  hing  nor 
difficult,  and  it  was  finally  agreed  that  the 
Crows  should,  .when  called  upon,  supply  the 
party  with  a  trusty  guide,  who  should  lead  them 
eaatward  by  the  route  on  which  they  would 
find  the  easiest  travelling  and  the  beat  supply 
of  biaon  ;  that  an  alliance  for  mutual  defence 
should  exiat  between  the  partiea  so  long  aa  they 
were  withm  the  boundariea  of  the  Crow  coun- 
try, but  that  they  should  never  encamp  neare>' 
to  each  other  than  at  a  distance  of  twice  the 
long-Right  of  an  arrow ;  that  so  soon  as  they 
should  emerge  from  the  defiles  of  the  moun- 
tains, the  Crows  should  supply  their  allies  with 
twenty  horses,  some  of  those  which  they  had 
brought  from  the  settlecnents  being  travel-worn 
nnd  exhausted ;  and  that  Beaha  was  to  have 
free  leave  to  come  and  go  from  one  encamp- 
ment to  the  other  at  all  hours  of  the  day  or 
night,  in  the  event  of  any  communication  being 
necessary. 

The  allied  band  agreed,  in  consideration  of 
the  above  conditions,  to  present  the  Crows 
with  a  certain  number  of  bales  of  cloth,  a  score 
of  blankets,  and  an  ample  supply  of  beads, 
paint,  and  knives ;  one-third  of  the  amount  to 
be  paid  on  the  delivery  of  the  horses,  and  the 
remainder  when  the  partiea  separated  on  the 
Great  Prairie,  at  the  eastern  boundary  of  the 
Upsaroka  country. 

These  terms  having  been  written  down  by 
Reginald,  he  read  them  slowly  one  after  the 
jther,  Wingenund  repeating  them  toBesha,  and 
ne  again  translating  them  to  White-Bull,  who 
nodded  his  approbation  as  they  were  succes- 
sively recapitulated,  after  which  Reginald  and 
Ethelston  having  signed  their  names  in  pencil, 
desired  Besha  and  White-Bull  toaffix  their  mark. 
The  former  did  ao  without  heeitation,  but  the 
latter  made  all  kinds  of  excuses,  and  looked  ex- 
tremely puzzled,  whispering  his  doubts  and  fears 
to  his  interpreter,  who,  being  a  reckless  fellow, 
and,  having  seen  more  of  the  world,  could 
scarce  forbear  laughing  in  his  face. 

In  truth  the  Crow  chief,  though  brave  and 
daring  in  the  field,  was  not  above  the  supersti- 
tions current  in  his  tribe,  and  he  entertained  a 
kind  of  vague  not  in  that,  by  putting  his  mark 
upon  the  paper,  he  brought  himself  under  the 
power  of  the  white-man's  medicine. 

Nevertheless,  he  was  at  length  persuaded,  and 
drew  upon  the  paper,  with  a  hand  not  unskilful, 
the  broad  forehead  and  projecting  horns  of  a  bi- 
son's head,  which  desi(,'n  represented  his  con- 
sent to  the  treaty. 


No  sooner  was  the  business  concluded  than 
the  presents  were  brought  forth,  and  distrihutcA 
according  to  the  terms  prescribed,  Reginald  add- 
ing fur  the  chief  a  hairbrush,  in  the  hack  of 
which  a  i>mall  mirror  was  set.  Never  had  sucli 
a  curiosity  been  seen  in  the  Crow  country,  and 
White-Bull  turned  it  over  and  over  in  his  band, 
contemplating  it  and  himself  in  it,  with  undis- 
guised satisfaction,  while  Pierre  whispered  to 
liapiiate,  "if  Madame  Bending- willow  is  in  fa- 
vour, alie  will  have  it  before  to-morrow  !" 

The  Crowa  now  took  their  leave,  amid  many 
protestations  of  friendship  on  both  sides,  and 
returned  with  all  speed  towards  their  own  en- 
campment, White-Bull's  mind  being  divided  be- 
tween delight  at  the  possession  of  his  brush,  and 
dread  at  the  mysterious  dangers  he  might  have 
incurred  by  putting  his  mark  upon  the  white- 
man's  paper. 

The  departure  of  their  wild  allies  \e(l  the  par- 
ty at  the  camp  leisure  to  return  to  their  ordina- 
ry avocations,  and  to  the  sad  recollection  of 
liieir  Chiefs  condition  ;  indeed,  a  very  short 
lime  elapsed  before  he  sent  a  message  by  Paul 
Miiller  desiring  that  they  would  all  come  to  him 
without  delay. 

The  tone  of  deep,  yet  composed  sadness,  in 
which  it  was  delivered,  announced  to  most  of 
those  who  heard  it  that  War-Eagle  was  draw- 
ing near  to  his  end  ;  and  Reginald,  passing  hi» 
arm  within  that  of  Wingenund,  whispered  lo 
him  as  he  went  such  words  of  sympathy  as  ha 
thought  most  like  to  soothe  and  of)nsole  him. 

"  Dear  Netis,"  replied  the  youth,  in  a  tone 
of  the  deepest  melancholy,  "you  are  very  good, 
but  there  is  no  happiness  more  for  Wmge- 
nund !" 

"  Say  not  so,  my  young  brother ;  you  are  still 
in  the  early  spring  of  life,  and  I  hope,  wheit 
these  present  sorrows  are  past,  you  will  yeten* 
joy  a  long  and  happy  day  of  summer." 

"  Wiugenund's  spring  and  summer  are  both 
gone  !  but  he  does  not  complain ;  it  is  the  will 
of  the  Great  Spirit,  and  Wingenund  knows  that 
what  He  does  is  right." 

.\s  he  said  these  words  they  reached  the  tent, 
and  the  day  being  extremely  fine  the  poles  of 
that  compartment  were  taken  up,  and  the  can- 
vass folded  back,  at  the  request  of  the  Chief, 
that  he  might  once  more  look  upon  the  sun, 
and  feel  the  fresh  mountain  breeze  upon  his 
cheek. 

Lita  had  retired  int'^  the  inner  tent,  and  Prai- 
rie-bird was  seated  z  >.>  side,  a  cup  of  water 
being  the  only  source  ui  luiief  to  which  she  from 
time  to  time  had  recuurs'.  to  cool  his  lips  and 
recruit  his  ebbing  strength. 

The  whole  party  being  gathered  roiiTid  him,. 
Wingenund,  Reginald,  and  Ethelston  somewhat 
in  advance  of  the  rest,  he  addressed  the  former 
in  a  h>w  but  distinct  voice,  saying,  "  War- Eagle 
is  going  on  the  dark  path,  from  whieh  he  will 
not  return  ;  Wingenund  will  be  the  chief  of  the 
Lenape  band ;  has  he  anything  to  say  while 
War-Eagle  is  yet  Chief?" 

"  He  has,"  replied  the  youth  in  a  voice  trem- 
ulous from  emotion  ;  "  a  treaty  has  been  made 
with  the  Upsaroka,  does  War-Eagle  think  't 
good  V  He  then  proceeded  to  enumerate  its 
several  terms  and  conditions. 

"  It  is  good,"  said  iho  Chief,  alter  a  few  mo- 
ments reflection  ;  "  only  let  Netis  and  Winge 


109 


THE   PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


''l^ 


nund  remember  that  the  Upiaroka  are  double- 
tongued  ;  they  hate  the  DIackleet,  and  will  be 
glau  t(i  spend  my  brother's  powder  and  blood 
in  destroying  thoir  enemies.  Let  my  brothers 
keep  near  the  home-path,  and  not  wander  from 
it  to  please  the  Upsaroka.  Is  there  more  that 
luy  hrothtir  wishes  to  say  1" 

"'There  is  my  brother.  Here  are  the  four 
Osai^e  captives  taken  among  the  Upaaroka. 
Their  deeds  of  hiood  are  known  to  War- Eagle ; 
let  him  say  what  shall  be  done  with  them." 

"  Let  them  stand  forward,"  said  the  Chief, 
raising  himself  with  difficulty  from  the  hlanket- 
oushiun  against  which  he  had  been  reclining. 

They  were  accordingly  brought  to  the  front 
of  the  circle,  and  t  ood  awaiting  their  doom 
with  the  fierce  determined  air  of  waniora  who 
know  and  teared  it  not.  The  eldest  among 
them  was  a  tine  powerful  man,  who  bore  about 
him  the  marks  of  many  a  fray,  and  had  been 
one  of  the  leading  braves  who  followed  the  for- 
tunes of  Mah^ga.  He  it  waa  who  acted  as 
cpokesman  in  the  dialogue  that  ensued. 

War-Eagle.  "  Have  the  Washashe  anything 
to  say  that  their  lives  ahould  not  be  given  to 
the  slow  firel" 

Otagt.  "  The  warriora  of  the  Washashe  talk 
with  their  hands,  when  their  hands  are  not  tied. 
They  are  not  famous  for  their  tongues." 

W.  "Yet  with  their  tongues  they  spoke 
smooth  words  to  the  Lenap6 ;  they  called  them 
brother ;  they  ate,  hunted,  fought,  and  smoked 
vith  them,  and  then  joined  the  Dahcotahs,  to 
kill  the  women  and  children  of  their  friends.  If 
the  tongues  of  the  Washashe  are  not  famous, 
they  are  forked." 

0.  "  Mah^ga  was  the  war-chief  of  his  tribe ; 
when  he  went  upon  the  war-path,  the  Washashe 
followed.  He  is  gone  to  the  hunting-fields  of 
the  braves,  and  they  are  not  afraid  to  follow 
him.  When  War-Eagle  took  his  rifle  and  his 
club,  and  went  out  upon  the  war-path  by  night, 
bis  warriora  followed  in  silence.  Who  among 
them  said,  '  Where  does  War-Eagle  go!" 

W.  "  War-Eagle  never  raised  his  rifle  at  a 
friend ;  he  never  called  out  his  braves  to  burn 
the  wigwam  of  his  brother ;  there  was  never  a 
scalp  of  woman  or  child  taken  by  his  hand. 
When  he  struck,  it  was  at  an  open  foe.  or  to 
save  or  avenge  a  friend,"  he  added,  in  a  subdu- 
ed tone ;  "  and  yet  there  is  too  much  blood  on 
the  hands  of  War-Eagle ;  the  Great  Spirit  is 
angry  with  him  for  it." 

The  Osage  made  no  reply.  The  Missionary 
interchanged  a  whispered  word  with  Prairie- 
bird,  and  the  chiefcontinued,  addressing  chiefly 
the  Delawares  in  their  own  language.  "My 
brothers,  we  often  pray  to  the  Great  Spirit  to 
forgive  what  we  have  done  that  is  wrong.  The 
Black  Father  and  Olitipa  have  told  War-Eagle 
the  answer  that  He  gives ;  it  is  written  in  the 
threat  book,  in  which  there  are  no  lies,  'The 
Great  Spirit  will  forgive  us,  if  we  forgive  our 
brother ;  if  we  refuse  to  forgive  our  brother,  the 
Great  Spirit  will  refuse  to  forgive  us.'  War- 
Eagle  baa  done  many  things  wrong ;  he  hopes 
the  Great  Spirit  will  forgive  him.  Shall  he  now 
kill  the  Washashe  1"  He  then  turned  to  the 
prisoners,  and  said,  "Let  their  bands  be  cut, 
jand  let  them  return  to  their  own  people  to  tell 
ff  them  that  the  Lenape  hurt  not  women  nor  chil- 
dren, Dor  men  whose  bands  are  tied.    Olitipa 


has  read  tmm  the  book,  that  aoeh  ia  the  will  of 
the  Great  Spirit,  whom  the  while  men  call  by 
the  name  of  Ood,  and  the  heart  of  War-Eagle 
tells  him  that  it  is  true." 

It  Is  doubtful  whether  this  speech  caused 
greater  surprise  among  his  own  followers,  or 
among  the  Osages  whom  it  restored  to  lifu  and 
liberty.  Both,  however,  heard  it  with  that  ab- 
sence of  outward  emotion  which  characterizes 
the  red-skin  race  in  North  America ;  so  that 
Ethclston,  who  dii)  not  understand  a  word  of 
the  Delaware  tongue,  was  perfectly  unconscious 
of  anything  having  been  said  that  might  materi- 
ally affect  the  fortunes  of  the  prisonera ;  and  he 
was  in  momentary  expectation  of  aeeing  them 
led  away  to  suffer,  according  to  the  lawa  of  In- 
dian retribution,  the  deaerved  penalty  of  their 
cruelty  and  treachery. 

While  Pierre  was  informing  him  of  what  had 
occurred,  the  Osage  apokeamsn  resolved  appa- 
rently to  try  the  patience  of  the  expiring  Chief 
to  the  uttermost,  and  said  to  him,  with  a  sneer, 
"  War-Eagle  is  very  good  to  the  Washashe ;  he 
knows  that  they  have  neither  food  nor  arms ; 
thfcre  is  not  ene  knife  among  the  four.  They 
are  among  the  mountains,  a  whole  moon's  jour- 
ney from  their  village,  surrounded  by  war- par- 
ties of  the  Upsaroka  and  Blaokfeet,  and  oivlheir 
return-path  must  pass  the  hunting-grounds  of 
the  Shiennes,  the  Kiowas,  the  Ptnis,  and  the 
Mahas.  War- Eagle  would  rather  that  they  were 
starved,  and  their  bones  gnawed  by  the  wolves, 
than  see  them  die  like  warriors,  and  laugh  at 
the  I^nap^  in  their  death." 

Paul  Miiller  looked  anxiously  at  the  Chief,  to 
mark  what  effect  would  be  produced  by  this  un- 
grateful and  intemperate  speech ;  and  his  appre- 
hensions were  much  relieved  when  he  heard 
War-Eagle  reply,  in  a  calm  and  unmoved  tone, 
"  There  is  no  wonder  that  the  Washashe  think 
others  are  like  themselves,  false-hearted  and 
double-tongued.  Had  the  Lenape  intended  that 
the  Washashe  should  be  killed,  they  would  have 
spared  the  Upsaroka  and  the  wolves  the  taak. 
War-Eagle  intends  that  they  ahould  live  to  be 
ashamed  of  their  bad  deeds.  Wingenund  will 
see  that  they  enter  safely  on  the  home-path. 
Now  let  them  go ;  their  words  are  bitter,  and 
they  can  neither  apeak  nor  believe  the  truth. 
War-Eagle  has  no  more  time  to  waste  with 
them." 

As  he  uttered  this  reproof  in  a  contemptuous, 
rather  than  an  angry  tone,  the  Chief  fell  back 
much  exhausted  upon  his  cushion,  and  the  lead- 
ing Osage  was  about  to  make  some  violent  re- 
ply, when  Pierre,  taking  him  by  the  arm,  hur- 
ried him  and  his  companions  to  the  outer  edge 
of  the  circle,  saying  to  him,  as  be  went,  "  Peace, 
fool !  Is  thy  thick  head  so  fond  of  trusting  a 
Lenap6  tomahawk,  that  thou  cast  not  hold  thy 
tongue,  when  thy  saucy  wagging  of  it  might 
cost  thy  life  ?  Peace,  I  say,  or,  in  spite  of  the 
Chief's  pardon,  I  will  have  thee  and  thy  com- 
rades tied  down  again  like  fresh  caught  colta." 

Having  spoken  words  to  this  effect  to  the 
reckless  and  grumbling  Osage,  Pierre  re-entered 
the  circle  gathered  round  the  Chief,  and  found, 
on  his  return,  that  a  general  silence  prevailed. 
Wingenund  was  sitting  uptm  the  ground,  close 
to  his  brother,  listening  with  the  deepest  atten- 
tion to  the  injunctions  and  counsel  which  the 
latter  was  delivering,  in  a  voice  that  became 


u 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


103 


every  moment  more  feclile  and  indittinot.  Nunn 
present  could  ovorlit^Hr  what  puMini ;  but,  at 
llif  concluaiiiii,  the  two  brothers  sai  lor  a  fuw 
i(>conil«  ill  silence,  each  pressiiiK  his  clennhed 
'.land  upon  the  heart  or  thu  other,  alter  which 
Wingenund  retired  a  few  puces  back,  while  the 
Cliiet',  collecting  his  remaining  strength,  said 
aloud  to  his  devoted  rollowers,  "  War  Lagle  is 
going  to  the  land  where  his  lathers  dwell ;  he  is 
•urry  to  leave  his  brothers,  but  it  is  the  will  of 
the  Great  Spirit,  who  is  the  Master  of  Life;* 
and  when  He  speaks,  the  I.cnap6  are  silent,  and 
obey.  When  War-Esgle  is  gone,  it  is  his  wish 
that  Wingenund  should  be  chief  of  the  band  ; 
the  blood  of  Tamenund  warms  bis  heart,  and 
though  he  has  not  seen  many  summers,  his  eyes 
liave  not  been  shut,  nor  have  his  ears  been 
closed  against  the  counsel  of  wise  men.  My 
brothers,  you  have  the  care  of  a  great  treasure, 
the  care  of  Oiitlpa,  the  beloved  daughter  of 
Tamenund,  the  sister  who  has  cleared  away  the 
cloud  that  hid  the  sun  from  War-Eagle,  and  the 
thorns  that  beset  his  path  in  the  dark  valley. 
My  brothers,  let  not  one  of  you  leave  her  until 
she  is  safe  at  the  white  man's  boundary  ;  and  if 
you  love  War-Eagle,  you  will  also  love  and  obey 
Wingenund,  and  Netis  his  adopted  brothe'," 

A  deep  suppressed  murmur  was  the  only  re- 
ply made  by  the  gloomy  warriors  around ;  but 
War-Eairlfl  knew  its  import,  and  read  its  con- 
firmation on  the  determined  countenances  of 
those  who  had  so  often  followed  him  to  strife 
and  victory. 

The  mortal  agony  was  at  hand,  and  the  Chief, 
feeling  its  approach,  looked  suddenly  round  as 
if  he  missed  some  one  who  should  be  there ;  his 
utterance  was  scarcely  articulate,  but  Prairie- 
bird  caught  the  intended  sound  of  Lita's  name, 
und  flying  into  the  lent,  speedily  returned,  bring- 
ing with  her  the  weeping  girl.  Again  he  con- 
trived to  make  Prairie-bird  understand  his  wish, 
that  an  armlet  of  beads  that  he  wore  should  be 
taken  off  and  hung  round  Lita's  neck ;  the  Chief 
smiled  and  said,  "  Lita  has  been  faithful  to 
Olitipa  and  very  good  to  War-Eagle ;  the  Great 
Soirit  will  reward  her." 

The  destroyer  was  now  rapidly  tightening  his 
fell  coils  round  the  vital  organs,  but  the  Chief 
still  retained  sufficient  strength  to  press  the 
hand  of  each  of  his  sorrowing  friends  in  suc- 
cession against  that  generous  heart  which  must 
so  soon  cease  to  beat.  Wingenund  was  the 
last,  and  as  he  stooped  over  his  brother,  whis- 
pered to  him  a  word  that  reached  the  car  of 
Prairie-bird,  and  while  it  richly  rewarded  her 
pious  and  afTectionate  toil,  ligh.t?d  uput  the  same 
time  the  countenance  of  the  dying  man  with  a 


*  In  the  greater  numkcrorthe  Indian  langiiases  known 
on  the  North  Amerlcon  continent,  the  Supreme  BninK  is 
dealfnnted  by  a  name  l>enring  one  of  ihe  three  following 
■igniflcallons : 

1.  "Great,  or  Good  Spirit ;"  nich  is  the  "  Mnnitou," 
"Mnnitio,"  "  Kltchn-Manitou,"  Ice,  of  tlie  nolawnrea, 
Chlppewayi,  Btkii,  Potlawatomla,  and  most  of  iliu  Algon- 
kin  tiilief. 

S.  "The  Wonder(\il,  or  Wonderful  Spirit,"  by  which 
name  He  \»  de.slgnatMl  among  mont  of  the  tribes  renldenC 
on  the  banka  of  Ihe  Minoiirl :  e.  g.  "  Wuhcondnh"  by  the 
Oinea  and  OniKhawa,  "  Wahcutunca"  by  the  Dahcotohs, 
"  Ma-na-kApii"  by  the  Minneteroes,  lie. 

X  "  Master  of  Life,"  wlilch  is  the  elgnlflcatinn  of  the 
name  by  which  Ihe  Almighty  is  recognised  omong  Ihe 
Pnwnees,  and  many  other  numerous  and  powerful  tribes. 
The  subject  is  too  comprehensive  to  be  more  than  briefly 
alluded  to  In  this  plaoe. 
N 


smile  of  triumph  that  hid  defiance  to  the  pang* 
of  the  grisly  King  of  Terrors.  From  the  time 
that  hu  received  his  fatal  wounds,  nut  a  groan 
nor  murmur  of  complaint  had  escaped  him,  and 
when  ho  resigned  Ins  parting  breath,  it  was  with 
the  peaceful  tranquillity  of  childhood  fulling 
asleep. 

"My  children,"  said  fhe  Missionary,  solemn- 
ly, "  Wnr-Eagle,  the  son  of  Tamenund.  In  no 
morel  In  life  none  walked  more  uprfghiiy  than 
he,  according  to  the  light  ihnt  wit.s  ^{ven  to  him  I 
He  gave  up  niis  life  to  save  that  ol  unother,  and 
after  enduring  ^'rievous  pains  wiih  the  heroism 
of  an  Indian  warrior,  he  iiied  with  a  full  hope  and 
truM  in  Ihe  redeeming  mercy  of  his  Ood.  Peace 
be  with  his  soul ;  and  may  we  all  rejoin  him 
hereafter  in  the  land  where  separation  and  sor- 
row will  be  unknown  I" 


CHAPTER  XLVL 

War-Eacls's  Funaral.— The  Tarty  oumnienca  their  home- 
wnni  Jnutnay.— Baaha  eiarta  hia  dinlumatio  Talents  for 
the  last  Time,  and  receivita  several  Rewsnis,  with  aome 
of  which  ha  would  willingly  have  dispenssd. 

It  may  well  be  imagined  what  a  gloom  was 
cast  over  the  whole  party  by  the  death  of  the 
Delaware  leader;  not  only  among  those  who, 
like  Ueeinald,  Wingenund,  and  Prairie-bird, 
mourned  for  him  as  for  a  departed  brother,  but 
even  among  the  rough  hunters  and  wood.smen, 
to  whom  he  had  endeared  himself  no  less  bj^  his 
dauntless  courage  than  by  a  thousand  acts  of 
kindness  and  generosity.  As  fur  his  own  trusty 
Lenap4  warriois,  their  spirit  seemed  entirely 
broken ;  too  proud  to  weep  or  lament,  they 
walked  to  and  fro  by  the  spot  where  his  remains 
still  rested,  casting  upon  the  dark  cloth  by  which 
thev  were  covered  desponding  and  melancholy 
luoKS ;  and  when  Bnptiste,  whom  they  esteemed 
as  the  lon^-tried  friend  of  their  late  Chief,  tried 
to  oflfer  a  few  words  of  coniiolation,  hinting  also 
at  the  virtues  and  qualities  of  the  .surviving 
brother,  they  shook  their  heads  and  returned  to 
cherish  their  grief,  like  the  wife  of  Phineha.s, 
who,  when  she  heard  that  her  hu.sband  and  her 
father-in-law  were  dead,  and  Ihe  Ark  captured, 
regarded  not  the  consolation  of  her  new-bom 
child,  but  called  it  Ichabod,  saying  "  The  glory 
is  departed  from  Israel." 

"Ethelston,"  said  Reginald  to  his  friend, 
"meihinks  the  sooner  we  strike  oar  camp  and 
move  from  this  sad  spot  the  better;  it  is  neces- 
sary, from  the  progress  that  mortification  has 
made  in  the  frame  of  our  lamented  friend,  that 
he  should  be  buried  immediately.  Let  us  speak 
to  Wingenund,  and  see  whether  he  wishes  it 
performed  according  to  onr  customs  or  accord- 
ing to  those  of  his  own  people;  for  in  this  wc 
ou$rht  not  (o  dictate  to  him." 

Having  joined  the  youth,  whom  they  found 
standing  in  an  attitude  of  dejection  at  no  great 
distance,  Reginald,  af\er  a  few  words  of  kindly 
sympathy,  proposed  to  him  the  subject  under 
discussion.  To  the  surprise  of  both,  they  found 
him  quite  prepared  for  it.  "Yes,"  he  said; 
"  War-Eagle  said  to  Wingenund  what  he  wish- 
ed, and  it  shall  be  done  this  dav.  First  let  us 
obey  his  commands  about  the  Washashe;  let 
them  be  called  before  the  tent,  and  let  the  hunt- 
ers and  the  Lenape  be  summoned  too." 

This  was  soon  done,  and  the  party  being  as- 
sembled, the  Osages  were  once  more  brought 
forward,  their  limbs  having  been  freed  from  the 


104 


THE    PKAIRIR-BIRD. 


:hon|i!i  by  whirh  Ihey  hod  been  bound ;  and  the 
gencrnl  Mock  of  ineai,  lrt>^h  ni  well  as  dried, 
wan  iIno,  by  desire  ul  Wingvnund,  placed  be- 
fore the  tent.  These  preliminaries  t)eing  cuni- 
fileted,  the  young  chier  addrexsed  ihem  n»  M- 
own:  "  \Vu!«hushe,  it  In  known  to  you  that 
War-Kagle,  ftirgiving  your  bad  di-«'ds,  gave  you 
your  lives— the  Lenap4  respect  the  wishes  of 
their  great  Chief,  and  will  not  send  you  away 
with  empty  handi."  He  then  desired  that  a 
fair  proportion  of  meat,  a  rifle,  with  a  reason- 
able supply  of  ammunition,  a  knife,  and  a  small 
package  of  Indian  presents  should  be  given  to 
each  of  the  Osages,  These  ontera  having  been 
punctually,  though  reluctantly,  obeyed  by  one 
of  the  Delaware  warriors,  Wingenund  coniin- 
oed,  "  If  the  Washashe  fear  to  enter  upon  the 
iong  home-path  with  so  few  men,  they  may 
camp  under  the  shelter  of  the  Lenap^'flres — 
Ihey  cunnot  be  called  brothers,  but  no  harm  shall 
be  (lone  to  tlicm." 

"The  Washashe,"  replied  the  powerful  In- 
dian who  has  before  been  mentioned  as  the 
spokesman  of  the  Osages,  and  who  now  grasped 
his  restored  rifle  with  an  air  of  fierce  exultation, 
"  the  Washashe  have  no  fear— they  will  go  upon 
the  path  alone— they  will  not  dwell  a  night  by 
the  fires  of  the  Lenap^i  camp.  Wingenund  is 
a  young  chief,  and  the  Lenapi  need  not  be 
ashamed  when  they  speak  his  name;  his  words 
and  his  years  are  few,  but  his  deeds  will  be  told 
where  the  council  of  warriors  meet.  His  hand 
is  open,  but  it  is  red  with  the  blood  of  their 
great  chief;  the  Washashe  thank  him,  but  they 
cannot  call  the  Lenap6  brothers.  The  Washa- 
she have  no  more  to  say;  before  the  night  falls, 
their  feet  will  be  far  on  the  homeward  path." 

So  saying,  the  grim  warrior  stalked  awny 
with  his  three  companions,  the  assembled  party 
looking  after  them  in  silence,  until  their  forms 
were  lost  behind  a  rock  that  projected  into  the 
valley. 

"  I^roud  and  thankless  scoundrels,"  muttered 
Baptiste,  half  aloud,  to  the  hunter  who  stood 
nearest  to  him.  "  Had  my  opinion  been  taken, 
they  should  have  been  flogged  with  cow-hides 
out  of  the  camp,  and  they  might  have  found 
their  way  as  they  could  to  their  cut-throat  friends 
the  Dahcotahs!  'Twas  always  so  with  War- 
Eagle,  and  will  be  the  same  with  Wingenund ! 
When  the  skrimmage  was  over,  and  his  blood 
was  cool,  there  was  no  more  cruelty  in  his  na- 
tur'  than  there  is  in  that  of  a  Philadelphy  Uua- 
ker." 

Wingenund  having  spoken  for  a  few  minutes 
with  the  Missionary,  a  party  of  half  a  dozen 
men  were  desired  by  the  latter  to  dig  a  grave 
for  the  deceased  Chief  under  a  scathed  and  pic- 
turesque pine  that  stood  alone  on  a  small  natu- 
ral mound  near  the  river.  It  was  a  spot  that 
seemed  to  have  been  framed  by  the  hand  of  the 
Creator  for  a  sepulchre,  rising  as  it  did  in  the 
ceitre  of  a  wild  and  unfrequented  vale,  sur- 
rounded on  all  sides  by  precipitous  rocks,  be- 
yond which  rose  in  the  distance  the  snow-clad 
summits  of  the  gigantic  mountain-range— the 
fittest  natural  emblem  of  Eternity;  while,  round 
the  base  of  the  mound,  flowed  the  bubbling 
stream,  a  memento,  no  less  apt,  of  the  change- 
ful and  fleeting  nature  of  all  the  things  belong- 
ing to  this  earthly  scene. 

The  descending  sun  was  just  beginning  to 
gild  the  peaks  of  the  Western  Andes  when  the 
party  assembled  to  pay  the  last  tribute  of  afTec- 
tionate  regard  to  the  mortal  remains  of  their  late 


leader.  Prairie-bird  and  her  faithful  LIta  at- 
tended, both  having  their  face*  veiled  t^y  a 
■liuwl,  and  the  former  supported  by  her  ncwly- 
rcHiorcd  brother;  nor  was  iliere  one  of  ihe  parly 
abiient  from  the  mournful  ceremony,  which  Wiia 
commenced  (as  soon  as  the  body,  still  envfhipel 
and  bound  in  dark  cloth,  wns  placed  near  the 
grave)  by  a  brief  addrens  from  Wingenund,  in 
which  he  said, 

"My  brothers,  know  that  War-Eagle  was  a 
great  chief;  that  the  blood  of  many  warriors 
ran  In  his  veins.  The  enemies  of  the  Lenap^ 
were  his  enemies,  and  their  friends  his  friends. 
When  their  warriors  went  forth  to  battle,  he 
was  not  Ihe  lust;  and  when  they  returned,  his 
war-club  could  tell  a  tale."  A  deep  murmur  of 
assent  was  uttered  bv  the  Delawares,  and  Win- 
genund continued:  "War-Eagle  loved  the  Le> 
nape  from  his  childhood ;  and  in  his  l^st  mo- 
ments he  prayed  to  the  Great  Spirit  lur  their 
happiness.  He  also  told  Wingenund  thnl  Oliti- 
pa  and  Ihe  Black  Father  had  rend  to  him  many 
wonderful  things  from  the  Great  Spirit's  Book: 
that  he  had  thought  much  of  them,  and  found 
them  very  good  and  very  true.  Thev  had  niado 
his  heart  so  glad,  that  he  wished  Wingenund 
and  his  Lenap<-  brothers  to  henr  them,  that  they 
might  learn  how  to  please  the  Great  Spirit,  and 
to  obey  his  will.  Wingenund  promised  War- 
Eagle  that,  when  the  Black  Father  told  thent 
the  commands  of  the  Great  Spirit  written  in  the 
book,  the  ears  of  the  Lenapo  should  be  open  to 
listen  to  the  words  of  his  wisdom,  and  to  let  his 
counsel  guide  their  feet.  Mv  brothers,  such 
were  the  wishes  of  War-Eagle,  irreat  chief  of 
the  Unlmi  band  of  the  Ancient  People.  Witv- 
genund  has  told  them  truly,  and  he  intends  to 
obey  them  himself;  his  years  are  yet  too  fevr 
that  he  should  advise  otners;  let  each  of  my 
brothers  think  of  these  things  wisely,  and  act  a» 
the  Great  Spirit  shall  incline  his  heart  " 

A  long  and  profound  silence  followed  this 
spei'ch;  after  wl^ich  Paul  Miiller,  approaching 
the  mound,  desired  that  the  body  might  be  low- 
ered into  Ihe  grave.  When  this  was  done,  he 
addressed  first  the  Delawares,  setting  forth  the 
virtues  of  Ihe  deceased  chieflain,  and  laying  the 
greatest  stress  upon  those  which  were  of  a  more 
mild  and  peaceful  character.  He  touched  also 
most  feelingly  upon  the  occasion  on  which  he 
had  received  the  injuries  from  which  he  died, 
assuring  the  Delawares  that  no  length  of  time, 
nor  changes  of  life,  would  ever  efface  from  the 
memory  of  Prairie-bird,  or  those  to  whom  she 
was  so  dear,  Ihe  devoted  heroism  of  her  deliver- 
er. "But,  my  beloved  brothers"  said  be,  in 
conclusion,  "  great  as  was  the  gift  that  he  gave 
to  her,  even  his  life  for  hers,  he  received  from 
her  a  gift  much  greater;  for  it  is  my  humble 
hope  and  belief  that,  through  her  entreaty  and 
prayer,  his  eyes  were  open  to  sec  things  that  he 
nad  never  seen  before ;  and,  having  once  seen 
their  riches  and  their  beauty,  he  desired  thai 
you,  my  brothers,  should  see  them  too.  He 
learned  what,  I  fear,  you  cannot  yet  understand 
—that  it  is  the  will  of  the  Great  Spirit  that  ws 
should  observe  and  study  his  works,  and  copy 
them.  Is  it  true,  my  fnends  1  Is  (here  sense 
in  my  words  1" 

He  paused  for  a  reply.  The  elder  Delawares 
looked  at  each  other,  and  then,  as  if  by  mutual 
consent,  nodded  their  assent. 

The  Missionary  continued:  "Well,  then,  the 
Great  Spirit  is  merciful  and  just,  kind  and  for- 
giving, loving  peace  and  hating  strife.     How 


T  II  K  P  n  A  I  R  I  K  -  D  I  R  D. 


m 


do  we  try  to  pleaie  him  1  Ry  liming  prnrc,  and 
b«lnKii\»iri  Ui  »hi'd  blouti ;  by  reven«inK  wliire 
we  ouKlil  10  I'lirKivi*,  and  di'ulln((  liur>lily  by 
thoxe  on  wlioin  we  ought  to  have  mercy.  The 
Ovagfi  who  are  jiiMt  gone  arc  wicked  men; 
thev  have  been  gulliy  ot  trearhery  and  cruelly, 
and  you  ore  diiappoinied  that  you  were  not  per- 
initted  to  1(111  ihem,  and  that  Wingenund  sent 
Ihein  away  unhurt.  They  have  l>een  wicl<ed, 
tar  more  wicl<ed,  toward*  the  Great  Spirit;  they 
have  dlMobcyed  Mia  commands,  despLsed  His 
lawi,  destroyed  the  rreaturesi  of  Him  hand,  and 
have  inaulled  Him  and  braved  His  anger  lor 
weekx,  and  months,  and  years  I  How  has  he 
treated  ihein  1  He  has  given  them  water  Irom 
His  clouds,  and  has  brought  the  herds  of  bison 
to  their  hunting-ground,  and  has  given  the  sun 
to  warm  ihcm  dv  day,  and  the  moon  and  stars 
to  light  their  path  by  night  I  And  it'  even  now 
one  of  them— nay,  the  very  worst  among  them, 
were  to  hove  his  heart  soliened,  and  to  turn  to 
the  Greot  Spirit,  and  say, '  My  Father  in  heaven, 
I  am  sorry  fur  all  the  wrong  that  1  have  done, 
O  forgive  and  gu<de  me,  lor  I  wish  to  do  so  no 
more  I'  it  is  written  in  thnt  book  by  the  hand  of 
the  Great  Spirit  himself,  that  He  would  forgive 
that  sorrowful  man,  and  bless  him,  and  turn  the 
bitterness  of  liis  heart  into  gladness  and  joy 
sweeter  than  honey  I  TheNC  ihings,  my  dear 
brothers,  are  not  learned  in  a  day;  but,  I  thank 
God  that  by  His  blessing,  and  the  affectionate 
nnd  patient  labours  of  Olitipa,  the  eyes  of  War- 
Eagle  were  opened  to  see  tnem  :  ond  he  desired 
that  those  whom  he  most  loved  should  sea  and 
feel  them  like  himself.  We  will  now  take  our 
last  farewell  of  him  on  earth,  aAer  the  manner 
of  those  who  love,  fear,  and  obey  the  word  of 
the  Pother  of  us  all." 

Having  thus  spoken,  the  worthy  Missionary 
knelt  bv  the  side  of  the  newly-filled  grave,  and 
concluded  the  solemnities  of  the  occasion  by  on 
affecting  prayer  in  the  English  longue;  Reginald, 
Ethelston,  and  all  the  hunters  and  woodsmen, 
kneeling  uncovered,  and  finally  joining  in  that 

Serfect  model  of  supplicotion  taught  by  the  Re- 
eemer  himself  to  those  who,  in  whatever  age  or 
clime,  are  called  by  His  name. 

Having  paid  these  last  honours  to  their  de- 
parted friend,  the  leaders  of  the  partjr  withdrew 
to  make  the  proposed  arrangements  for  striking 
the  camp  on  the  following  morning,  and  lor  set- 
tling the  line  and  order  of  march. 

The  Delawares  lingered  for  some  time,  as  if 
tinwilling  to  leave  the  remains  of  their  beloved 
Chief,  and  at  length  slowly  retired,  one  by  one, 
until  there  remained  only  our  old  friend  Bap- 
tiste  and  a  veteran  Delaware,  who,  from  his  feats 
of  hardihood,  and  tht:  stern  fierceness  of  his  na- 
ture, was  generally  known  by  the  name  of  Stony- 
heart. 

"  Grande- HAche,"  said  the  latter,  addressing 
his  companion,  "  it  may  be  all  very  good  what 
the  Black  Father  says,  but  Stonv-heart  does  not 
understand  it.  When  War-Eagle  said  that  the 
Lenap^  should  not  kill  those  who  had  taken  the 
scalps  of  their  warriors  or  of  their  women,  the 
Maa  Spirit  roust  have  got  into  his  brain  I  Stony- 
heart  has  seen  many  winters,  and  has  heard  the 
talk  of  the  wise  men  in  council,  but  he  never 
heard  snch  words  as  these  !" 

It  must  be  confessed  thnt  Baptiste  was  not  in 
his  heart  a  very  strong  advocate  for  the  doctrine 
of  forgiveness ;  we  have  already  .seen  in  a  for- 
mer chapter,  that  he  wa.s  rather  disposed  lo  fa- 
vour the  Indian  law  of  retaliation  ;  he  answered, 
however,  on  this  occasion  cautiously. 


"Stiiny-heart  speaks  true:  yet  he  inu»t  r«- 
inLMulier  tliat  Wur-KnKlu  only  dcKlri-d  ihni  his 
Lviiiip.'  broiheis  .xlioutd  hear  wliai  the  tJliick 
Failii-r  hud  to  !<iiy  on  this  matter;  lliey  can  then 
deride  whether  his  words  are  idle  or  not.  It  will 
lie  ea.iier  for  him  lo  (lersuadu  the  yoiinij  than 
men  who  like  us  have  known  for  lurty  winters 
that  Ihe  custom  of  the  woods,  and  of  the  prairie, 
is  life  for  lile,  and  scalp  for  s^alp  i" 

"It  will,"  rejoined  the  oih(.r;  "and  Grande- 
HAohe  will  se>-  that  no  good  will  lollow  Irom 
having  spared  \tn  live*  ol  those  four  Washashe 
dogs  I" 

With  this  prophetic  observation.  Stony-heart 
rejoined  his  comrades,  and  Bapiisie  joined  the 
small  group  assembled  before  the  door  of  the 
tent. 

On  the  following  morning  the  party  began  their 
homeward  march,  Wingenund  leading  the  way, 
followed  by  his  Delaware.^,  and  accompanied  by 
Besha  nnd  the  Crow  guide,  who  had  been  sent 
for  by  a  runner  belbre  daybreak.  The  packed 
mules  and  horses  were  placed  in  the  centre  un- 
der the  special  charge  of  Monsieur  Perrol.whu!>e 
fund  of  gooil-liumour  nnd  resource  had  never 
failed  him,  and  who  now  performed  the  office  ot 
a  muleteer  with  the  same  readiness  with  which 
he  fulfilled  the  respective  duties  of  valet  to  Re- 
ginald, and  cook,  me.ssnian,  and  buffoon  to  the 
whole  parly.  Tlic  rear  was  brought  up  by  Eth- 
elston and  Reginald,  the  latter  still  keeping  his 
post  at  the  bridle  of  Nekimi,  ihe  line  of  march 
being  closed  by  Baptisie  and  some  of  the  most 
experienced  hunters,  while  Pierre  was  sent  Ibr- 
ward  to  aid  Wingenund,  he  being  the  most  skil- 
ful and  practised  in  Ihe  peculiar  dith  >lties  of 
the  dangerous  region  which  they  were  now  about 
to  traverse. 

For  several  days  all  went  on  as  well  as  could 
be  expected.  The  heat  was  intense,  and  water 
was  sometimes  scarce ;  several  of  the  mules  and 
pack-horses  dropped  down  from  exhaustion,  and 
were  left  behind ;  the  stock  of  provisions  was 
somewhat  short,  but  the  party  twice  fell  in  with 
a  smalt  herd  of  bufliilo,  from  which  they  pro- 
cured a  tolerable  supply ;  and,  at  camping  time, 
they  all  assembled  round  the  fire  in  front  of 
Prairie-bird's  tent,  and,  after  their  frugal  evening 
meal,  wore  awoy  the  lime  with  ronversation 
suited  lo  the  different  groups  into  which  the  par- 
ty divided  itself,  some  talking  over  lormer  cam- 
paigns, others  cracking  their  jokes  and  enjoying 
the  laugh  which  invariably  followed  Perrot's  de- 
termined attempts  to  explain  himselt  in  the  Del- 
aware tongue,  while  RecinalJ,  Ethelston,  and 
Prairie-bind  lived  over  aguli  the  days  of  their 
childhood,  or  recounted  to  each  other  some  ot 
the  most  interesting  incidents  of  the  interven- 
ing years. 

Ail  remarked  the  changed  aspect  and  increased 
gravity  of  Wingenund ;  hi*  manner  was  indeed 
gentle  and  quiet  as  belbre,  but  the  death  of  his 
brother,  and  the  responsibility  now  entrusted  tc 
him,  added  to  other  serious  matters  which  occu- 
pied his  mind,  seemed  in  him  to  have  annihila- 
ted the  interval  between  early  youth  and  ripened 
manhood.  First  to  rise  before  daybreak,  and 
last  to  lie  down  at  night,  he  seemed  unconscious 
of  fatigue,  and  resolved  that  on  this  occasion  at 
least,  the  Delawares  should  not  from  his  neglect 
be  reminded  of  the  lo>s  that  they  had  so  lately  sus- 
tained. At  ni^ht  he  visited  the  sentries  and 
saw  that  every  one  was  at  his  allotted  post,  and 
on  the  march,  whenever  the  nature  of  the  ^rcun!l 
rendered  precaution  necessary  scouts  were  sent 


196 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRU. 


I  '• 


forward  to  examine  it,  and  to  guard  against 
ambush  or  surprise.  Every  evening  he  joined 
the  little  party  before  the  tent,  and  never  left  it 
without  wiiihing  his  sister  (as  he  still  called 
Prairie-bird)  a  night  of  rest,  and  asking  a  bless- 
ing from  the  lips  of  the  Black  Father. 

riie  Crows  behaved  upon  this  occasion  better 
.than  had  beenexpectedofthcin,  camping  always 
at  a  certain  distance  from  the  allied  party,  and 
observing  faithfully  the  other  condition^  of  the 
treaty.  The  Guide  whom  they  had  supplied  led 
the  way  towards  the  Great  Prairie,  by  a  valley 
considerably  to  the  northward  of  that  by  which 
they  '.lad  entered  the  mountain  region,  and  Pierre 
soon  perceived  that  its  eastern  termination  was  at 
a  spot  that  was  easily  recognised,  by  all  experi- 
enced trappers,  as  the  "  Devil's  Kettle,"  owing 
10  the  steam  that  ascended  from  a  hot-spring, 
celebrated  for  its  medicinal  qualities  among  the 
neighbouring  tribes. 

Here  the  fresh  horses  promised  by  the  Crows 
were  supplied,  and  nn  equal  number  of  those  ex- 
hausted and  incapable  of  further  travel  were  let! 
behind.  Nekimi  alone  of  the  whole  quadruped 
band,  seemed  insensible  alike  to  the  scantiness 
of  pasture,  and  the  heat  and  fatigue  of  the  jour- 
ney. The  fair  burthen  that  he  bore  was  as  that 
of  a  feather  compared  to  the  powerful  frame  of 
his  former  rider  when  armed  and  equipped,  and 
the  noble  animal  seemed  desirous  of  expressing 
his  gratitude  for  the  change  by  rubbing  his  fore- 
head against  Reginald  as  lie  walked  before  him, 
or  nibbling  out  of  his  hand  a  few  young  shoots 
of  alder  or  willow  that  he  was  now  and  then  for- 
tunate enough  to  cut  by  the  half-dried  bed  of 
some  mountain  stream. 

In  this  way  they  travelled  forward  without  ac- 
cident or  adventure,  until  they  reached  the  banks 
of  a  river  of  considerable  size,  which  Pierre  con- 
jectured to  be  the  head-water  of  the  southern-fork 
of  the  Neosho,  or  the  Platte,  and  here  they  were 
to  ccmplete  the  terms  of  the  treaty,  and  bid  adieu 
to  their  Upsaroka  friends,  the  opposite  bank  of 
the  river  not  being  considered  witnin  the  limits 
of  their  hunting  ground. 

The  ceremonials  observed  upon  this  occasion 
were  much  the  same  as  the  preceding,  with  the 
exception  that  Bending-willow  paid  a  visit  to 
Prairie-bird,  received  from  her  .several  presents, 
drank  a  cup  of  the  wonderful  black  liquor,  of 
which  her  husband  had  told  her,  namely,  coffee 
sweetened' with  sugar,  and  told  her  fair  hostess 
that  his  affections  had  not  as  yet  strayed  to  any 
other  of  his  sjiouses— a  fact  the  truth  of  which 
was  attested  by  her  displaying,  with  the  most 
ostentatious  coquetry,  the  mirror-backed  brush, 
of  which  he  was  more  proud  than  of  anything 
that  he  possessed. 

Besha  made  himself  wonderfully  busy  during 
the  payment  of  the  presents  due  to  the  Crows ; 
and  in  one  or  two  instances  when  the  latter  claim- 
ed more  than  was  recorded  in  Reginald's  memo- 
randum, he  stoutly  maintained  that  the  white 
men  were  right,  and  recommended  the  Crows  to 
withdraw  their  pretensions;  in  so  doing  he  did 
not  neglect  to  whisper  every  now  and  then  to 
Baptiste  or  Pierre,  a  hint  that  he  intended  to  be 
paid  for  his  disinterested  support. 

All  this  was  not  lost  upon  White-Bull,  who, 
although  he  could  not  understand  a  word  of  what 
passed,  felt,  nevertheless,  convinced  that  the  in- 
terpreter was  playing  some  under-game.  He 
said  nothing,  however,  and  the  distribution  was 
satisfactorily  completed,  Wingenund  and  Regi- 
nald adding  gratuitously  several  presents  for  the 


chiefs  beyond  those  promised  in  the  treaty.  Be- 
sha, to  the  surprise  of  many  of  the  Ckows  who 
knew  his  avaricious  disposition,  went  away, 
apparently  well  satisfied,  with  nothing  more  that! 
a  blanket  and  a  knife;  but  they  did  not  know 
that  he  had  privately  whispered  to  Baptiste  that 
he  would  come  by  night  to  fieich  away  his  stipu- 
lated share  of  the  presents  (and  that  too  a  lion's 
share),  as  the  Crows  might  be  jealous  if  they 
saw  them,  and  might  take  them  from  him. 

The  two  parties  having  taken  their  final  leave 
of  each  other,  the  task  of  guide  devolved  upon 
Pierre,  who  resolved  not  to  cross  the  Platte  that 
evening,  it  being  now  rather  late,  but  lo  encamp 
where  they  weiv,  while  the  Crows  returned  some 
dozen  miles  upon  their  trail  before  they  encamp- 
ed for  the  night.  They  had  seen  enough  of  the 
effective  force  and  discipline  of  the  allied  band 
to  deter  them  from  attacking  it,  and  prudently 
resolved  to  return  to  their  own  country  with  the 
goods  which  they  had  already  acquired  without 
loss  or  risk ;  although  it  becomes  u.s,  as  vera- 
cious historians,  to  state  (however  little  credit 
the  statement  may  reflect  upon  White-Bull)  that 
it  had  been,  from  the  first,  his  intention  to  attack 
and  plunder  the  party,  had  their  carelessness  or 
neglect  afforded  him  an  opportunity  of  doing  so 
with  impunity. 

Besha  having  ascertained  the  spot  selected  for 
the  Crow  encampment,  lingered  behind  their  line 
of  march,  accompanied  by  the  lad  before-men- 
tioned as  being  his  constant  attendant,  whom  he 
left  concealed,  with  two  of  his  horses,  behind  a 
.small  hillock  beside  the  trail,  desiring  him  there 
to  await  his  return.  In  order  to  avoid  suspicion, 
he  continued  inthecompany  of  While-Bull  until 
it  was  dusk,  and  did  not  leave  the  camp  until  an 
hour  later,  when  he  threw  a  large  dark-coloured 
blanket  over  his  shoulders,  and  slipping  away 
unperccived,  rejoined  the  lad  left  in  charge  of 
the  horses. 

Mounting  one  him.self,  he  desired  his  com- 
panion to  follow  on  the  other,  and  trotted  briskly 
forward,  under  the  partial  light  of  a  young  moon, 
over  the  ground  which  he  had  carefully  noted 
during  the  dav,  until  he  reached  a  spot  where  the 
trail  approached  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the 
banks  of  the  Platte,  and  where  a  few  alder  bushes 
offered  convenient  shelter  for  the  horses.  Here 
the  lad  was  again  desired  to  await  his  master's 
return ;  and  as  the  dew  began  to  fall  heavy,  he 
was  not  sorry  that  the  latter  left  with  him  the 
large  dark-coloured  blanket  above-mentioned. 

Besha  now  pursued  his  way  on  foot ;  and  on 
reaching  the  outposts  of  the  allied  band  found, 
as  had  been  preconcerted,  two  of  the  Delawares 
bearing  several  large  packages,  containing  the 
presents  and  goods  that  he  had  earned  in  his 
mixed  capacity  of  diplomatic  agent  and  inter- 
preter. "The  packages  being  inconvenient  for 
the  horse-dealer  to  carry  alone,  both  on  account 
of  their  weiglit  and  number,  he  prevailed  upon 
one  of  the  Delawares  to  assist  him  in  carrying 
them  to  the  spot  where  he  had  left  the  horses.  It 
was  only  by  offering  thelni  in,  who  was  no  other 
than  Stony-heart,  a  little  bag  full  of  excellent 
Ifinne-kinnik  for  his  pipo,  that  he  prevailed  upon 
him  to  undertake  this  task.  But  the  materials  for 
smoking  had  become  scarce,  and  it  was  an  in- 
dulgence from  which,  when  within  reach.  Stony- 
heart  could  not  refrain  ;  he  accordingly  sent  back 
his  companion,  and,  telling  him  that  he  would 
return  in  the  course  of  an  hour  or  two,  set  forth 
with  the  horse-dealer  on  the  trail. 

We  must  now  see  bow  it  fared  with  the  lad 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


197 


ihe  treaty.  Be- 

the  Ckows  who 

n,  went  away, 

thing  more  than 

diet  not  know 

10  Baptisie  that 

away  his  stipu- 

that  too  a  lion's 

jealous  if  they 

from  him. 

their  final  leave 

devolved  upon 

s  the  Platte  that 

,  but  (o  encamp 

s  returned  some 

re  they  encamp- 

n  enough  of  the 

the  allied  band 

,  and  prudently 

:ountry  with  the 

nquired  without 

les  us,  as  vera- 

ver  litlle  credit 

Vhite-Bull)that 

tention  to  attack 

'  carelessness  or 

nity  of  doing  so 

spot  selected  for 
behind  their  line 
lad  before-men- 
•ndant,  whom  he 
horses,  behind  a 
siring  him  there 
avoid  suspicion, 
While-Bull  until 
^e  camp  until  aa 
ge  dark-coloured 
d  slipping  away 
left  in  charge  of 

jesired  his  com- 
nd  trotted  briskly 
)fa  young  moon, 
I  carefully  noted 
a  spot  where  the 
Ired  yards  of  the 
few  alder  bushes 
le  horses.    Here 
vait  his  master's 
lo  fall  heavy,  he 
ifi  with  him  the 
ive-mentioned. 
on  foot;  and  on 
lied  band  found, 
if  the  Delawares 
,  containing  the 
id  earned  id  his 
igent  and  inter- 
nconvenient  for 
both  on  account 
prevailed  upon 
him  in  carrying 
[\  the  horses.    It 
irho  was  no  other 
ull  of  excellent 
3  prevailed  upon 
Ihe  materials  for 
id  it  was  nn  in- 
in  reach,  Ston)-- 
dingly  sent  back 
1  that  he  would 
or  two,  set  forth 
1. 
ed  witlt  (he  lad 


left  in  charge  of  the  horses,  who,  being  tired  with 
the  day's  march,  fastened  the  end  of  their  long 
halters  to  his  arm,  and  wrapping  himself  in  the 
blanket,  laid  down  upon  the  grass,  and  soon  fell 
into  a  comfortable  doze.  One  of  the  horses, 
probably  disliking  this  unusual  separation  from 
those  with  which  it  was  accustomed  at  this  hour 
to  feed,  neighed  several  times  aloud,  for  which 
disturbance  of  his  slumber  it  received  a  pull  of 
the  halter,  and  a  muttered  execration  from  the 
youth,  when  he  again  fell  into  a  state  of  uncon- 
sciousness. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  the  neighing  of  the 
horse  reached  other  ears  at  no  great  distance, 
being  those  of  no  less  a  person  than  the  Osage, 
who,  with  his  three  companions,  was  on  his 
homeward  way,  and  had  on  the  preceding  day 
stolen  an  old  canoe  that  they  found  on  the  bank 
of  the  river;  and  after  patching  up  a  few  rents 
and  holes,  had  embarked  in  it  to  save  them3el ves 
a  portion  of  their  long  foot  journey.  They  had 
seen  from  a  distance  the  moving  bands  of  the 
white  men  and  of  the  Crows,  and  had  hauled 
their  canoe  under  some  alder  bushes  on  the  bank, 
in  order  to  consult  and  determine  whether  they 
should  drop  further  down  the  river  during  the 
night,  or  leaving  it,  strike  a  more  southerly 
course. 

While  holding  this  consultation,  the  neighing 
of  Besha's  horse  caught  the  quick  ear  ot  their 
leader;  he  listened — and  hearing  it  repeated, 
crept  towards  the  spot,  followed  by  his  three  com- 
panions. As  soon  as  the  uncertain  light  of  the 
moon  enabled  him  to  distinguish  the  two  pack- 
horses  fastened  to  the  sleeping  lad,  he  again  crept 
noiselessly  forward,  and  springing  upon  him,  en- 
veloped him  in  his  own  blanket,  stutiing  the  cor- 
ner of  it  into  his  mouth,  so  that  he  could  neither 
struggle  nor  make  any  noise. 

Leaving  one  of  his  men  in  charge  of  the  hor- 
des, he  carried  the  youth  swiftly  to  the  water's 
edge,  where  he  securely  pinioned  and  gagged 
him,  not,  however,  before  he  had  recognised  by 
the  moonlight  the  countenance  of  Besha's  attend- 
ant. The  Osage's  plan  was  soon  formed ;  for  he 
rightly  conjectured  that  the  horse-dealer  was 
gone  upon  some  errand,  from  which  he  would 
not  return  empty  handed;  and  he  also  owed  the 
horse-dealer  a  grudge  fur  having,  as  he  suppo- 
sed, favoured  Wingenund  in  that  eventful  scene 
which  terminated  Mahiga's  life. 

Stripping  the  youth  of  his  dark  blanket  and  of 
the  broad-brimmed  bat  of  Mexican  grass  that  he 
wore,  the  Osage  put  them  on  himself;  and  ta- 
king his  seat  by  the  same  bush,  he  held  the  halt- 
ers of  the  horses,  and  partially  concealing  his 
face  in  one  of  the  folds  of  the  blanket,  awaited  in 
this  disguise  the  return  ol  the  horse-dealer,  while 
his  three  companioas  concealed  themselves  be- 
hind the  adjacent  bushes. 

They  had  not  been  very  long  ensconced  before 
Besha  appeared,  followea  by  the  doughty  Stuny- 
heart,  who  muttered  to  himself  as  he  came  that 
he  would  not  carry  such  a  load  so  far  again  for 
all  the  kinne-kinnik  in  the  camp.  The  horse- 
dealer  as  he  drew  near  gave  the  usual  signal- 
whistle  for  his  attendant;  and  finding  that  it  was 
unanswered,  looked  towards  the  spot,  where  he 
descried  the  slumbering  figure  in  the  slouohed 
hat  and  dark  blanket;  while  one  of  his  pack- 
horses,'  lately  cast  loose,  seemed  to  be  deliberate- 
ly walking  off  to  seek  better  pasture.  Hastily 
throwing  his  own  package  to  the  ground,  he  went 
to  secure  the  stray  animal,  calling  at  the  same 
linae  to  Stony-heart,  , 


"Kick  that  sleepy  dog  till  he  wakens,  that  he 
may  come  and  assist  me  with  these  packs." 

The  Delaware,  who  was  not  a  man  of  many 
words,  proceeded  forthwith  to  execute  this  order, 
and,  without  putting  down  his  heavy  load,  be- 
stowed a  sound  kick  upon  the  reclining  figure, 
which,  to  his  infinite  surprise,  started  instnnily 
to  its  feet  in  the  shape  of  a  powerful  man,  who 
threw  him,  encumbered  as  he  was,  upon  the 
ground,  and  succe.ssfuUy  rdsisied  all  his  violent 
efforts  to  extricate  himself.  While  one  of  the 
Osages  came  to  assist  in  securing  the  fallen  Del- 
aware, the  other  two  seized  the  unlucky  horse- 
dealer,  just  as  he  was  mounting  in  the  hope  of 
saving  himself  by  flight. 

So  suc^cessfully  had  the  0.sages  planned  and 
executed  this  manceuvre,  that  in  less  than  five 
minutes  their  last  two  prisoners  were  laid  bound 
and  pinioned  together  with  the  first  in  the  canoe, 
where  the  captured  bales  and  presents  were  also 
stowed  away,  imd  while  one  of  the  Osages  took 
the  horses  to  a  ford  not  far  distant,  which  had 
been  recently  crossed  by  a  large  herd  of  bison, 
the  remaining  three,  with  their  prisoners,  pad- 
dled across  the  river,  and  then  noiselessly  along 
the  opposite  bank,  until  they  had  reached  a  deep 
and  winding  creek,  which  fell  into  the  main  riv- 
er, and  which  they  had  noticed  by  daylight  as 
affording  convenient  fuel  and  shelter.  Having 
pursued  their  way  up  the  creek  until  they  con- 
sidered themselves  safe  from  pursuit,  and  their 
fire  from  the  observation  of  either  encampment, 
they  gathered  and  lighted  a  goodly  pile  Tdry  al- 
der-wood, and  proceeded  deliberately  to  unpack 
and  examine  the  bales  and  packages,  throwing 
their  three  pinioned  captives  roughly  on  one  side, 
as  being  so  much  live  lumber  unworthy  of  their 
notice. 

The  plunder  that  they  found  themselves  thus 
suddenly  possessed  of  exceeded  their  utmost  ex- 
pectations; and  as  it  contained,  among  other 
things,  a  package  of  excellent  dried  meat  and 
the  kinne-kinnik,  from  which  poor  Stony-heart 
had  expected  so  much  gratification,  they  ate  co- 
piously of  the  former,  and  smoked  copiously  of 
the  latter,  until  they  were  in  the  highest  possible 
state  of  Osage  enjoyment. 

It  was  not  long  before  they  were  joined  by  their 
comrade  with  the  horses,  who  received,  as  soon 
as  he  had  fastened  the  latter,  his  due  share  both 
of  the  provisions  and  the  plunder;  after  which 
they  ungagged  the  prisoners,  at  the  same  time 
giving  them  to  understand  that  if  they  made  the 
least  noise  they  would  be  put  to  death  immedi- 
ately. Indeed,  whether  they  were  noisy  or  quiet, 
it  seemed  by  no  means  improbable  that  such 
might  be  their  fate,  for  two  ol  the  Osages  strong- 
ly urged  the  necessity  for  so  doing,  under  the 
plea  of  self-pre.servation.  The  leader  seemed, 
however,  to  be  of  a  different  opinion,  and  he  had 
already  established  a  kind  of  prescriptive  right 
of  command  over  his  comrades. 

Having  thrown  some  dry  sticks  upon  the  fire 
to  make  it  blaze,  he  drew  Stony-heart  towards 
the  lis:ht,  and  as  it  fell  upon  his  countenance  eti- 
abled  him  to  recognise  in  his  prisoner  one  of  the 
chief  warriors  of  the  Delaware  band. 

"  Is  Stony-heart  become  a  mule,"  said  he  with 
a  grin,  "  that  he  carries  bales  and  blankets  upon 
hi;:  back  V 

To  this  taunt  Stony-heart  did  not  deign  to  le- 
ply,  and  a  brief  conversation  ensued  amon^  the 
Osages;  after  which  their  leader  came  again  to 
him,  and  having  searched  his  dress,  satisfied 
himself  that  the  Delaware  had  no  other  arms 


138 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


Willi  him  than  a  knife  and  a  small  pistol  con- 
cealed in  iiis  belt.  The  t'ornier  lie  leli  uiituucii- 
ed,  but  the  latter  he  dipped  in  the  creek  until  it 
was  thoroughly  soaked,  and  then  returned  it  to 
the  owner,  whom,  having  now  released  from  his 
bands,  he  thus  addressed : 

"Stony-heart  may  return  to  his  people;  he  is 
free ;  and  he  may  tell  Wingenund  that  the  Was- 
hashe  know  how  to  repay  a  good  deed,  as  well 
as  to  revenge  a  bad  one.    StOnyiheart  may  go  I" 

The  Delaware  waited  no  second  bidding,  but 
returned  with  all  haste  towards  his  camp,  being 
obliged  to  swim  the  river,  and  muttering  to  him- 
self, after  he  had  crossed  it,  "I  told  Baptiste 
that  no  good  could  ever  come  of  sparing  the 
lives  of  those  Washashe  dogs!"  sucn  being  the 
only  gratitude  that  he  either  felt  or  expressed  for 
the  clemency  that  he  had  just  experienced  at 
their  hands! 

Soon  after  his  departure,  the  Osages  turned 
their  attention  to  Besha,  sternly  questioning  him 
as  to  the  part  he  had  taken  in  their  late  chiefs 
dispute  with  Wingenund;  and  in  spite  of  all  his 
protestations  of  impartiality  and  innocence,  they 
stripped  him  of  every  article  of  clothing  save  his 
moccasins,  and  gave  him  a  most  severe  flogging 
with  a  laryette  of  buU's-hide,  after  which  they 
decamped,'leaving  him  still  pinioned,  and  writh- 
ing with  pain,  while  they  carried  with  them  his 
attendant,  whom  they  compelled  to  load  and  ar- 
range the  packs  upon  the  horses,  and  to  lead  the 
latter  for  the  first  dozen  miles  of  their  route; 
after  which  they  permitted  him  to  return  to  re- 
lease his  master,  who  crawled  back  with  difli- 
culty,  before  daylight,  to  the  Crow  camp,  hav- 
ing reaped  the  reward  of  his  intrigues,  cunning, 
and  avarice,  in  the  loss  of  all  his  presents,  two 
of  his  best  horses,  and  a  flogging,  from  the  ef- 
fects of  which  he  suffered  for  a  long  time. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

The  Scene  is  shifted  to  the  Banks  of  the  Muskinfpim,  and 
Prairie-biid  returns  to  the  Home  of  her  Childhood. 

About  two  months  after  the  events  related  in 
the  pr.?ceding  chapters,  there  was  an  unusual 
stir  and  bustle  in  the  town  of  Marietta,  and  half 
a  score  of  its  principal  inhabitants  were  assem- 
bled in  front  of  David  Muir's  house,  to  witness 
the  landing  of  the  crew  and  passengers  belong- 
ing to  a  large  boat  that  had  just  arrived  at  the 
wooden  pier  which  projected  into  the  river. 

Foremost  of  a  busy  group  at  the  water's  edge 
was  the  sturdy  form  of  Gregson  the  mate,  whose 
orders  respecting  the  bringing-to,  and  making 
fast,  were  implicitly  obeyed ;  and  when  at  length 
she  was  securely  moored  alongside  the  pier,  nu- 
merous and  hearty  were  the  greetings  between 
those  who  stepped  ashore  from  her,  and  the 
Iriends  from  whom  they  had  been  so  long  sev- 
ered. 

"  Bearskin,  how  are  youl  my  old  fre.sh-water 
porpoise !"  said  the  mate,  squeezing  the  hard 
hand  of  the  Mississippi  boatman.  "  How  fares 
it,  m'^ssmatel" 

"All  right  now,  my  hearty;  but  we've  had 
some  foul  weather  since  I  saw  you  last." 

"  Ay,  I  see !"  said  the  mate,  observing  the 
scars  upon  his  old  companion's  face  and  fore- 
head ;  "  you've  been  snagged,  and  damaged  your 
figure-head  a  bit:  never  mind  thai;  we'll  have 
all  that  yarn  out  by-and-by  over  a  bottle  of  Da- 
vid's best.  See,  here  he  comes  to  welcome  you 
himself!" 


Leaving  David  Muir  and  Bearskin  to  their 
mutual  greetings,  the  mate  returned  to  the  water- 
side and  lent  his  powerful  assistance  to  the  land- 
ing of  the  cargo  of  the  heavily-laden  boat;  and 
certainly,  a  more  strange  or  heterogeneous  mix- 
ture of  animate  and  inanimate  stock  never  came 
out  of  any  vessel  since  the  di5.embarkation  from 
the  ark.  Skins,  furs,  bows,  rifles,  moccasins,  and 
Indian  curiosities  ofevery  description,  were  pileii 
near  the  bows,  while  in  the  after-part  were  stow- 
ed provisions  of  all  kinds,  and  kegs,  which  were 
by  no  means  so  full  as  they  were  when  the  boat 
left  St.  Louis. 

The  appearance,  language,  and  costume  of 
the  crew  would  bafile  any  attempt  at  descrip- 
tion, inasmuch  as  each  sunburnt,  unshavcd  in- 
dividual composing  it,  had  equipped  and  attired 
himself  according  to  his  own  fancy,  and  accord- 
ing to  the  contents  of  his  remaining  wardrobe 
after  a  long  sojourn  in  the  western  wilderness; 
and  when  it  is  remembered  that  these  hardy  fel- 
lows were  from  all  the  varied  clans  and  nations 
found  between  the  sources  and  the  mouth  of  the 
"  Father  of  Waters,"  it  is  not  surprising  that 
their  mingled  jargon  should  have  struck  upon 
the  ear  like  the  dialects  of  Babel  in  the  day  of 
its  confusion.  There  were  hall-breed  Creeks  and 
Cherokees;  Canadians,  some  with  no  little  ad- 
mixture of  Chippeway  blood;  others,  proud  of 
their  pure  French  descent :  there  were  also  some 
of  the  rough  boatmen,  who  had  already  migra- 
ted to  the  banks  of  the  Great  River,  where  it 
washes  the  western  boundaries  of  what  are  now 
the  States  of  Kentucky  and  Illinois;  and  a  raw- 
boned,  sinewy  fellow,  who  acted  as  a  sort  of 
.second  mate,  was  giving  instructions  in  broad 
Scotch,  to  a  dark-eyed  and  diminutive  individ- 
ual, who  replied  to  him  in  bad  Spanish.  Above 
the  din  of  all  these  multifarious  tongues,  was 
heard  the  shrill  and  incessant  voice  of  Monsieur 
Perrot,  who  was  labouring  with  indefatigable 
zeal  to  collect  his  master's  baggage,  and  to  put 
it  safely  ashore. 

This  he  was  at  length  enabled  to  efl'ect  with 
the  aid  of  David  Muir  and  the  mate;  after 
which  the  articles  destined  for  Mooshanne  were 
piled  in  readiness  for  the  wagon  which  was  to 
convey  them,  and  the  remainder  ibund  their  way 
by  degrees  to  their  respective  destinations. 

When  at  last  the  good-humoured  valet  found 
himself  comfortably  seated  in  the  merchant's 
parlour  with  the  worthy  man  himself.  Dame 
Christie,  Jessie,  and  the  mate,  for  his  audience, 
and  a  bottle  of  madeira,  with  some  fried  ham 
and  fresh  eggs  upon  the  table,  he  gave  a  sigh, 
the  importance  of  which  was  lost  upon  none  of 
those  present,  and  he  looked  from  one  to  the  oth- 
er with  the  conscious  superiority  of  a  man  who 
knows  how  much  he  has  to  tell. 

It  is  not  our  province  to  follow  him  through 
the  "  hair-breadth  'scapes,"  the  "  moving  acci- 
dents by  flood  and  flela,"  with  which  he  set  his 
astonished  hearers  "  all  agape ;"  the  only  portion 
of  his  narrative  which  it  concerns  us  to  know,  is 
that  which  referred  to  the  movements  of  Regi- 
nald Brandon  and  the  remainder  of  his  party, 
who  might,  according  to  Monsieur  Perrot's  ac- 
count, be  almost  daily  expected  at  Mooshanne, 
as  they  had  left  St.  Louis  and  cros.sed  its  ferry 
with  tent,  baggage,  and  a  large  cavalcade,  on 
the  day  of  his  embarkation  in  the  great  "  Bat- 
tea  u." 

It  was  80  long  since  Monsieur  Perrot  had 
tasted  any  liquid  with  a  flavour  like  that  of  the 
merchant's  madeira,  that  he  sipped  and  talked, 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


199 


rskin  to  their 
d  to  the  waier- 
ce  to  the  land- 
len  boat  j  and 
geneous  inix- 
k  never  came 
rkation  Iroin 
occasins.and 
on,  werepileii 
irt  were  stow- 
,  which  were 
hen  the  boat 

costume  of 
t  at  descrip- 
unshavcd  in- 
id  and  attired 
,  and  arcord- 
ng  wardrobe 
n  wilderness; 
5se  hardy  fel- 
i  and  nations 
mouth  of  the 
rprising  that 
struck  upon 
n  the  day  of 
d  Creeks  and 

no  little  ad- 
ers,  proud  of 
ere  also  some 
ready  migra- 
ver,  where  it 
vhat  are  now 
i;  and  a  raw- 
as  a  sort  of 
ons  in  broad 
Hive  individ- 
lish.  Above 
tongues,  was 
!  of  Monsieur 
indefatigable 
re,  and  to  put 

to  effect  with 
mate;  after 
sshanne  were 
vhich  was  to 
iind  their  way 
nations. 
i  valet  found 
:  merchant's 
onself,  Dame 
his  audience, 
ie  fried  ham 
gave  a  sigh, 
ipon  none  of 
ne  to  the  oth- 
fa  man  who 

him  through 
noving  acci- 
:h  he  set  his 
only  portion 
s  to  know,  is 
nis  of  Regi- 
)f  his  party, 
Perrot's  ac- 
Mocishanne, 
sed  its  ferry 
ivalcarie,  on 
great  ''  Bat- 

Perrot  had 
!  that  of  the 
and  talked, 


talked  and  sipped,  without  noting  the  lapse  of 
time,  and  the  evening  was  already  tar  advunceil 
before  he  thought  ot  rising  to  take  his  departure 
for  Mooshanne;  even  then,  David  iVluir  pressed 
him  so  strongly  to  remain  with  him  over-night, 
and  continue  his  jou;  'y  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, that  Mons'^ii'  rot  found  himself  quite 
unable  to  resist  a'.  -.ng  the  invitation;  espe- 
cially as  he  thoui^  mat  another  day  or  two 
might  probably  elapse  before  the  return  of  Regi- 
nald ;  and,  moreover,  the  bright  eyes  of  Jessie 
Muir  looked  a  thousand  times  brighter  from  the 
contrast  that  her  beauty  afforded  to  the  swart 
dusky  complexions  by  which  he  had  so  lately 
been  surrounded. 

Leaving  the  merry  Frenchman  and  his  still 
wondering  auditors  m  David's  parlour,  we  will 
proceed  without  delay  to  Mooshanne,  where  it 
happened  that,  about  four  o'clock  on  the  same 
afternoon,  a  single  horseman  sprang  from  the 
,  animal  that,  to  judge  from  its  appearance,  had 
carried  him  far  and  fast,  and,  having  rung  the 
door-bell,  waited  not  lor  any  one  to  answer  it, 
but  walked  straight  into  the  vestibule. 

The  bell  was  still  rinsing  when  the  door  of  the 
drawing-room  was  slignilv  opened  that  the  blue 
eyes  of  Lucy  might  herself  reconnoitre  the  new 
comer;  the  next  moment  saw  her  u  her  broth- 
er's arms.  • 

"  Dear,  dear  Reginald  I  'tis  he,  'tis  he,  indeed  1" 
and  she  drew  him  into  the  room  that  her  father 
might  share  her  rapturous  joy. 

While  the  Colonel  pressed  his  son  to  his  heart 
in  a  fond  paternal  embrace,  Lucy  ran  up  stairs 
«o  prepare  the  more  delicate  nerves  of  her  inva- 
lid mother  for  the  shock  of  happiness  that  await- 
«d  her. 

Scarcely  were  these  first  affectionate  greetings 
exchanged,  ere  Lucy  inquired  with  expectant 
eagerness,  "When  will  they  arrive  1— how  far 
off  are  they,  Reginald  1" 

"  They  cannot  now  be  long;  I  think  within  a 
couple  of  hours  they  must  be  nere.  If  I  mistake 
not,  Lucy,  there  is  one  of  the  party  who  be- 
grudged me  not  a  little  my  office  otavanl-courier." 

Lucy  blushed  "  celestial  rosy  red,  love's  prop- 
er hue,"  as  she  felt  how  her  heart  leaped  within 
her  to  meet  the  one  to  whom  her  brother  refer- 
red: and  she  hastened  away  to  conceal  her  min- 
gled confusion  and  happiness,  in  the  thousand 
little  details  of  preparation  ibr  her  expected 
guests. 

It  maybe  as  well  here  to  mention,  that  imme- 
diately on  reaching  St.  Louis,  Reginald  had  dis- 
patched a  messenger  on  horseback  to  his  father 
-with  a  letter,  containing  the  outline  of  the  events 
connected  with  his  western  expedition,  and  in- 
forming him  of  the  rescue  of  Prairie-bird,  and 
of  the  attachment  that  existed  between  her  and 
himself.  He  spoke  not  of  her  parentage,  further 
than  to  say  that  she  had  been  carried  off  in  child- 
hood from  her  own  family,  who  were  of  a  line- 
age and  descent  altogether  unexceptionable ;  and 
he  entreated  and  conjured  his  fa'her  not  to  en- 
tertain, nor  pronouce  any  objection  to  his  pro- 
posed alliance,  until  he  had  an  opportunity  of 
seeing,  hearing,  and  judging  for  himself. 

Reginald  had  also  insisted  upon  Ethelston's 
abstaining  from  this  topic  in  any  letter  that  he 
might  wish  to  send  from  St.  Louis,  and  the  Col- 
onel had  thought  it  advisable  to  say  nothing  to 
Lucy  of  her  brother's  attachment,  while  there 
remained  a  doubt  of  its  being  such  as  he  could 
approve  or  sanction ;  so  that  he  had  only  inform- 
ed her  that  the  party  would  bring  back  with 


them  Prairie-bird,  whom  the  young  Delaware 
liad  mentioned  so  often  as  his  sister,  but  who 
was,  it)  Ikct,  the  daughter  of  English  parents,  of 
the  highest  respectability ;  and  that  she  would  be 
accompanied  by  Paul  Muller,  a  missionary, 
whose  reputation  for  piety  and  learning  was  ex- 
tensively spread,  and  who  had  been,  since  her 
residence  with  the  Indians,  her  instructor  and 
adopted  father. 

Lucy's  curiosity  to  see  Prairie-bird  had  been, 
since  the  arrival  of  her  brother's  letter,  extraor- 
dinarily excited.  Sometimes  she  fancied  1  er  a 
half-wild,  half-civilized  being  clad  in  a  dress  of 
skins,  and  speaking  broken  English.  Then 
again  she  was  puzzled  at  the  remembrance  of 
the  affectionate  reverence,  almost  amounting  to 
worship,  with  which  Wingenund  had  spoken  of 
her,  and  again  her  calculation  was  at  fault.  Un- 
der these  doubts  and  perplexities,  she  consulted 
Aunt  Mary,  and  with  her  aid  and  concurrence 
had  prepared  for  her  expected  guest  a  room,upoa 
the  ground  floor,  that  looked  upon  her  own  flow- 
er-garden. Its  furniture  was  simple,  but  ex- 
ceedingly pretty,  being  a  kind  of  representation 
of  a  tent,  of  an  octagon  shape,  and  hung  with  a 
delicate-coloured  pink  chintz. 

The  view  from  the  windows  was  lovely;  for 
although  the  flowery  parterres  had  lost  their 
brightest  summer  hues,  a  few  roses  still  lingered 
among  them,  contrasting  with  the  thousand  au- 
tumnal colours  that  decked  the  shady  mass  of 
distant  forests,  between  which  and  the  flower- 
garden  was  seen  here  and  there,  through  a  leafy 
vista,  the  winding  course  of  the  Muskingum. 
Lucy  had  decked  the  interior  of  the  room  with 
all  those  nameless  comforts  and  luxuries  that 
betoken  woman's  affectionate  care ;  several 
shelves  were  covered  with  well-selected  books, 
and  two  china  baskets  ujran  the  table  were  filled 
with  such  flowers  as  the  indefatigable  Aunt 
Mary  had  placed  there,  unconscious  for  whom 
she  gathered  them. 

As  soon  as  Reginald  had  enjoyed  a  short  in- 
terview with  his  mother,  whose  health,  though 
still  delicate,  had  somewhat  improved  since  he 
had  last  seen  her,  Lucy  entered,  and  taking  him 
by  the  arm,  said,  "Come,  Reginald,  you  must 
inspect  my  preparations.  See,  this  is  your  own 
room,  which  you  will  find  rather  more  gay  than 
when  you  leu  it,  as  Aunt  Mary  would  have  it 
new-papered.  That  beyond  is  destined,  as  be- 
fore, for  Ed— forElhelston." 

"  Has  Aunt  Mary  thought  it  requisite  to  new- 
paper  that,  too,  or  did  it  occur  to  Miss  Lucy 
without  her  aunt's  suggestion  1" 

Lucy  punished  him  with  a  slight  pinch  on  the 
arm ;  and  then,  leading  him  down  the  stairs  ta 
the  tent  apartment,  said  to  him,  "Now,  sir,  I 
will  show  you  what  I  have  prepared  for  youi 
Indian  lady;  this  is  Prairie-bird's  room." 

The  lell-tale  blood  rushed  into  Reginald's 
bronzed  and  sunburned  cheek,  as  he  stood  with- 
in the  room  destined  to  contain  his  heart's  treas- 
ure ;  thoughts  far  too  sweet,  and  deep,  and  swifl 
for  words,  mingled  the  past  and  the  future  in  a 
delicious  dream,  as  bending  over  his  sister  he 
kissed  her  fair  forehead,  and  pressed  her  in  si- 
lence to  his  heart. 

With  the  intuitive  quickness  of  sympathy, 
Lucy  read  in  that  expressive  silence  the  secret 
of  her  brother's  breast;  and  looking  up  to  hira, 
half  reproachfully,  she  said,  "  Reginald,  could 
not  you  have  trusted  your  Lucy  so  fur,  as  to  te- 
her  that  Prairie-bird  would  have  a  dearer  title  to 
her  affections  than  that  of  being  Wingenund's 


Hi 
■I,' 


A  -  '■■■ 


4 


I 


900 

sister,  or  the  child  of  the  Missionary's  adop- 
tionr' 

"  Dear  Lucy !"  replied  her  brother,  with  an 
impressive  earnestness,  that  reassured  while  it 
awed  her,  "  there  has  been  so  much  of  the  mys- 
terious and  merciful  workine  of  Providence  in 
the  history  of  Prairie-bird,  that  I  am  sure  you 
will  forgive  me  when  I  asL  vou  to  wail  a  few 
hours  before  ail  is  explained  to  ]>ou.  Mean- 
while, receive  her,  for  these  lew  hours,  as  a 
guest ;  if  at  the  end  of  them  you  do  not  love  her 
as  a  sister,  my  prophetic  spirit  errs  widely  of  its 
mark." 

Lucy  saw  well  how  deeply  her  brother's  feel- 
ings were  moved,  and  she  prayed  inwardly  that 
her  expected  guest  might  fulfil  his  prophecy.  It 
must  be  owned,  however,  that  there  lurked  a 
doubt  in  her  heart  whether  it  could  be  possible 
that  a  girl  reared  in  an  Indian  camp  could  be  to 
her  a  sister,  or  could  be  worthy  of  that  brother, 
whom  her  fond  partiality  clothed  with  attributes 
beyond  those  which  belong  to  ordinary  mortals. 
Her  affection  for  Reginald  would  not  permit  her 
to  let  him  perceive  these  doubts;  but  fearful  of 
betraying  them  by  her  manner,  she  left  him  in 
the  room  destined  for  Prairie-bird,  while  she 
hastened  to  aid  the  indefatigable  Aunt  Mary  in 
some  of  the  other  preparations  that  were  going 
forward ;  the  Colonel  having  given  orders  that 
the  whole  parly,  of  whatever  rank  or  station, 
should  be  hospitably  entertained. 

Reginald  was  no  .sooner  left  alone,  than  cast- 
ing bis  eyes  around  the  room,  a  sudden  idea  oc- 
curred to' him  of  preparing  an  agreeable  surprise 
for  his  betrothed  on  her  entrance  to  her  new 
domicile.  He  remembered  having  seen  below, 
in  the  drawing-room,  a  Spanish  guitar,  which  he 
lost  no  time  in  securing;  and  having  taken  it 
from  the  case,  he  ascertained  that  it  was  a  very 
fine  instrument,  and  that  the  strin^rs  were  in 
very  tolerable  order.  He  now  laid  it  upon  the 
sofa-table  in  her  room,  placing  beside  it  a  slip 
of  paper  which  he  took  from  his  pocket,  and 
which  seemed,  from  its  soiled  and  crumpled 
condition,  to  have  suffered  not  a  little  from  the 
Tarious  wettings  to  which,  during  the  past 
months  of  travel,  it  had  been  exposed.  Still  he 
lingered  in  the  room,  noting  with  satisfaction  the 
various  trifling  luxuries  and  comforts  which  his 
sister  had  prepared  for  Prairie-bird,  when  sud- 
denly he  caught  the  sound  of  a  bugle-note,  in 
which  he  instantly  recognised  the  signal  to  be 
given  by  Bapliste  of  the  party's  approach. 

How  did  his  heart  beat  within  htm  as  he  flew 
to  welcome  them ;  yet  were  its  throbbing  pulsa- 
tions like  the  quiet  of  sleep  compared  to  those 
of  the  maiden,  who  now  drew  near  the  home  of 
her  infancy.  Ethelston  had  leaped  to  the  ^und, 
and  half  supported  her  in  the  saddle  with  one 
hand,  while  with  the  other  he  checked  Nekimi, 
whose  impatient  neigh  betrayed  his  remembrance 
of  the  corn-bin,  and  the  well-known  stall. 

"  Edward — Edward,  I  cannot  go  through  this !" 
said  the  half-fainting  girl.  "  My  thoughts  are 
all  confused — my  brain  turns  round — see,  there 
is  the  house  I  I  cannot  remember  it.  O,  stay  a 
minute — only  one  minute,  that  I  may  recover 
myself!" 

"  Dear  Evy  I"  said  her  brother,  looking  up 
while  she  leaned  affectionately  upon  his  shoul- 
der, *'  'tis  natural  that  your  thoughts  should  be 
mingled  and  confuocd,  but  let  them  not  be  gloomy 
wnc!  The  house  is  so  changed  within  the  last 
ten  years,  that  had  you  built  it  yourself  you 
could  not  recognise  it  in  its  present  state.    Al- 


THE   PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


ready  I  can  distinguish  d.'ar  Aunt  Mary's  white 
cap  and  apron ;  and  Lucy,  longing  to  embrace  a 
sister;  the  grey  locks  of  the  stately  Colonel,  and 
one  beside  him,  who  will  not  be  the  last  to  wel< 
come  Prairie-bird  t" 

"  I  can  distinguish  nothing,  Edward;  there  is 
a  mist  before  my  eyes :  but  it  is  a  mist  of  lore 
and  happiness  unspeakable  I" 

"  Courage,  dear  Evy  I"  said  her  brother  in  r, 
cheering  tone;  "let  them  not  think  that  Prairie- 
bird  draws  near  with  slow,  unwilling  step,  and 
that  her  heart  regrets  the  change  from  the  prai- 
rie to  the  scenes  of  her  childhood,  and  the  home 
of  her  choice!" 

"  Edward  I"  said  his  sister  reproachfully,  while 
a  tear  started  in  her  eye,  and  the.  blood  mounted 
to  her  temples;  then  shaking  back  the  dark  locks 
from  her  glowing  cheeks,  as  if  she  would  there- 
by shake  off  the  temporary  weakness  by  which 
she  had  been  overcome,  she  added,  "  Remount 
your  horse ;  we  have  yet  some  hundred  feet  to  go ; 
if  Prairie-bind  draws  rear  with  slow,  unwilling 
step,  it  shall  be  Nekimi's  fault,  and  not  her  own  I" 

Su  saying,  she  shook  the  loosened  rein  upon 
the  neck  of  the  fiery  sieed,  which  bounding  for- 
ward with  a  spring  that  would  have  unseated  a 
less  practised  rider,  bore  her  swiftly  to  the  door, 
where  he  st(^ped,  obedient  to  her  delicate  hand, 
and  champ^  and  frothed,  and  snorted,  as  if 
proud  alike  of  his  burden,  and  of  his  own  match- 
less symmetry  of  form. 

Never  had  her  radiant  beauty  so  thrilled 
through  Reginald's  every  nerve  as  at  this  mo- 
ment, when,  lightly  touching  his  proffered  arm, 
she  sprang  to  the  ground ;  her  cheek  glowing 
with  agitation,  and  her  eye  moistened  iiv  con- 
tending emotions,  she  interchanged  with  him 
one  silent  look  of  conscious  love,  and  then  turn- 
ed, with  genlle  grace,  to  receive  the  greeting  ot 
Colonel  Brandon. 

We  have  before  said  that  he  had  been  far 
from  pleased  with  the  contemplated  alliance  of 
his  son,  and  had  made  up  his  mind  to  receive 
Prairie-bird  with  cold  and  studied  courtesy,  nor 
to  treat  her  otherwise  than  as  an  ordinary  guest, 
until  he  should  have  satisfied  himself  respecting 
her  birth  and  connexions ;  but,  in  spite  of  him- 
self, these  resolutions  vanished  before  the  irre- 
sistible attractions  of  her  manner  and  bearing, 
so  that  instead  of  only  extending  hie  hand  as  he 
had  proposed,  he  imprinted  a  parental  kiss  upon 
her  forehead,  saying, 

"Welcome,  heartily  and  truly  welcome  to 
Mooshanne !" 

She  tried  to  speak,  but  she  looked  on  the  half- 
remembered  features  of  Reginald's  father,  and 
her  collected  strength  began  to  faU.  At  this  mo« 
ment  she  was  greeted  by  Lucy,  whom  she  al« 
ready  knew  to  be  the  chosen  of  her  brother's 
heart. 

"  Prairie-bird  must  learn  to  love  her  sister  !'* 
whispered  she,  folding  her  in  an  affectionate  em- 
brace. 

"  Learn,  Lucy !"  replied  Prairie-bird,  whose 
tears  could  no  longer  be  controlled.  "  Learn ! 
can  a  few  years  have  so  changed  our  faces  and 
our  hearts,  that  Lucy  and  Evy  must  now  leam 
to  love  each  other  1" 

Before  the  astonished  girl  could  reply,  Aunt 
Mary,  darting  forward  with  frantic  haste,  ex- 
claimed, "What  voice  is  ihatr'  then  catching 
Prairie-bird  by  the  arm,  examined  with  wild 
intensity  every  line  of  her  countenance.  As  she 
looked,  the  tears  gathered  in  her  own  eyes,  her 
frame  trembled  with  agitation,  and  she  fell  upon 


■*■. 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


SOI 


her  neck,  saying,  "Tis  she— 'tis  my  poor 
brothi    <  long-lost  child  1" 

Lucy  s  heart  told  her  that  it  was  so  indeed: 
Colonel  Brandon  was  overcome  with  astonish- 
ment ;  but  he  read  in  the  looks  of  Reginald  and 
Ethelston  that  the  lost  treasure  was  restored; 
and  as  memory  retraced  in  the  features  of  Piai- 
rie-bird  those  of  his  atto'^hed  and  lamented  friend, 
he,  too,  WIS  unmanned ;  and  grasping  Ethelston's 
hand,  wrung  it  with  an  emotion  beyond  the  power 
of  words. 

The  news  spread  like  wild-flre  throughout 
the  house  that  Captain  Ethelston's  sister  was 
returned ;  and  Lucy  was  obliged  to  run  with  all 
speed  to  her  mother's  room  to  prevent  a  sudden 
shock  of  joy  that  might  r.fibct  her  weaklv  nerves. 
Is  it  possible  to  describe,  or  imagine  the  trans- 
ports of  the  succeeding  hour  in  that  happy  cir- 
cle I  or  the  caresses  showered  upon  Praine-bird  I 
What  word  would  the  pen  or  tongue  employ  1 
"Congratulations')"  A.s  well  might  one  at- 
tempt to  represent  Niagara  by  the  water  poured 
from  a  pitcher  1 

We  will  trust  that  hour  to  the  reader's  heart, 
and  will  suppose  it  past,  and  that  Lucy,  with 
still  tearful  eyes,  and  her  arm  still  round'  her  re- 
covered sister's  neck,  was  leading  her  from  the 
room  where  she  had  just  knelt  to  receive  Mrs. 
Brandon's  maternal  kiss,  V7hen,  in  passing  a 
half-open  door,  Lucy  said,  "  Evy,  that  is  your 
brother's  room ;  but  he  is  not  in  it,  he  is  still  on 
the  lawn." 

"  Oh  I  I  must  look  into  Edward's  room,"  ex- 
claimed Prairie-bird;  and  opening  the  door,  she 
entered,  followed  by  Lucy.  A  rifle,  a  fowling- 
piece,  and  a  iishing-rod  stood  in  one  corner; 
over  them  were  ranged  several  pair  of  pistols, 
and  two  or  three  cutlasses,  apparently  of  foreign 
workmanship ;  in  the  opposite  comer,  near  the 
window,  was  a  globe,  by  the  side  of  which  stood 
a  case  filled  with  naval  charts;  on  the  other 
side  of  the  room  was  ranged  a  row  of  shelves 
well  stored  with  books,  and  the  writing-table  in 
the  centre  was  covered  with  papers  all  neatly 
tied  and  docketed,  as  he  had  left  them  at  his  last 
departure. 

Prairie-bird's  eye  wandered  with  a  certain  de- 
gree of  interest  over  all  these  indications  of  her 
brother's  habits  until  it  rested  upon  a  small  por- 
trait hung  over  the  chimney-piece.  It  repre- 
sented a  man  of  middle  age  and  stature,  and, 
although  the  painting  was  scarcely  above  medi- 
ocrity as  a  work  ofart,  the  expression  of  the 
countenance  was  strikingly  open  and  benev- 
olent. Prairie-bird  gazed  upon  it  until  she 
thought  that  the  mild  orbs  upon  the  inanimate 
canvas  returned  her  affectionate  gaze.  With 
clasped  hands  and  beating  heart,  she  stood 
awhile  silent,  and  then  sinking  on  her  knees, 
without  removing  her  eyes  from  the  object  upon 
which  they  rested,  she  murmured,  in  a  whisper 
scarcely  audible,  "  My  Father  I" 

It  was  indeed  the  portrait  of  his  lamented 
friend  that  Colonel  BrandoD  had  kindly  placed 
in  Ethelston's  room,  a  circumstance  which  had 
escaped  Lucy's  memory  at  the  moment  of  her 
entering  it. 

Stooping  over  her  kneeling  cqpipanion,  she 
kissed  her  forehead,  saying,  "  Evy,  I  will  leave 
you  for  a  few  minutes  to  commune  with  the 
memory  of  the  honoured  dead ;  you  will  find  me 
in  the  vestibule  below."  So  saying,  she  gently 
closed  the  door,  avid  le(\  the  room. 

In  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Prairie-bird 
rejoined  her  frieud,Aud  though  '.he  traces  of  re- 


cent emotion  were  still  to  be  obstrrvd,  she  bad 
recovered  her  composure,  and  her  countenance 
wore  an  expression  of  gratelbl  haopiness. 

"Come,  Evy,"  said  her  young  hostess,  '  I 
must  now  show  you  your  own  room ;  the  cage 
is  not  half  pretty  enough  for  so  sweet  a  bird,  but 
it  opens  upon  the  flower-garden,  so  you  can 
escape  when  you  will,  and  your  dear  good  Paul 
MiilJ'  r  is  your  next  neighbour." 

An  exclamation  of  delight  broke  from  the  lips 
of  Prairie-bird  as  she  entered  and  looked  round 
the  tented  apartment,  and  all  its  little  comforts 
prepared  by  Lucy's  taste  and  affection.  Fortu- 
nately, the  day  was  beautiful,  and  the  casement 
windows  being  wide  open,  her  eye  caught,  be- 
yond the  flower-garden,  a  view  of  the  distant 
mass  of  forest,  with  its  thousand  varied  autum- 
nal tints,  reposing  in  the  golden  light  of  the  de- 
clining sun. 

"  Oh,  it  is  too,  too  beautiful  I"  said  Prairie- 
bird,  throwing  her  arms  around  Lucy's  neck  y 
"  I  can  scarcely  believe  that  this  is  not  all  a 
dream  I" 

"  There  have  indeed  been  some  fairies  here, 
or  some  such  beings  as  dwell  in  dreams,  Evy," 
said  Lucy,  whose  eye  fell  upon  the  guitar  lying 
on  the  table,  "  for  I  left  this  room  a  short  time 
ago,  and  this  instrument  was  not  here  then. 
Who  can  have  brought  it  1 — can  you  play  upon 
it,  Evy  r 

"  A  little,"  replied  Prairie-bird,  colouring. 

"  And  see,"  continued  Lucy,  "  here  is  a  scrap 
of  paper  beside  it,  so  soiled  and  dirty  that  I 
should  have  put  it  in  the  fire  had  1  seen  it  be- 
fore ;  do  you  Know  the  hand-writing,  Evy  1" 

As  Lucy  said  this  she  looked  archly  up  in 
her  friend's  face,  now  glowing  with  a  rosy 
blush. 

"  Well,  you  need  not  answer,  for  methinks  I 
L'now  it  myself;  may  I  unfold  the  paper,  and 
read  its  contents  1  What,  no  answer  yet ;  then 
I  must  take  your  silence  for  consent." 

Thus  saying,  she  opened  the  paper,  while 
Prairie-bird,  blushing  still  more  deeply,  glanced 
at  it  with  longing  but  half-averted  eyes. 

"  Verses,  I  declare  I"  exclaimed  Lucy.  •'  Why^ 
Evy,  what  magic  art  have  you  employed  to  trans- 
form my  Nimrod  brother,  the  wild  huntsman  of 
the  west,  the  tamer  of  horses,  and  the  slayer  of 
deer,  into  a  poet  1" 

She  then  proceeded  to  read  in  a  voice  of  deep 
feeling,  the  ToUowing  stanzas,  which,  althoa^n 
without  any  pretensions  to  poetical  merit  ia 
themselves,  found  such  acceptance  with  their 
present  warm-hearted  and  partial  judges,  that^ 
at  the  conclusion  of  their  perusal,  the  two  girls 
fell  upon  each  other's  neck,  and  remained  lock- 
ed in  a  silent  and  affectionate  embrace. 

0»ntrhtarmgPrairit-birir»S9t»insItiimH,  "HiLLOWiD 
BE  Tht  Name."* 
Yra,  IwUowml  be  Hit  Holy  Nsma, 

Who  formad  tlue  whi*  thou  art ! 
MIThoM  breath  inspininhe  haar'nly  flams 

Now  kindlvcRn  thr  heart ! 
Whoae  love  o'eHlowing  in  thy  breait 

Theae  vocal  raptures  itirrsd— 
Whoee  angels  hover  round  thy  nest, 

Thou  orphan  Prairio-bird ! 
Methinka,  I  see  ths*.  guardian  throng 

Still  mirrored  in  thy  face ! 
Thy  voice  hath  stol'n  their  aagel-soog. 

Thy  form  their  ange'-grace. 
Oh  breathe  once  more  that  plaintive  strain, 

Whose  every  tone  and  word, 
Deep-trrasured  in  my  heart  and  brain 

Shall  dwell,  sweet  rrairie-hird !           R.  B. 
Delaware  and  Otage  Camp,  Tuesday  night. 

*Sea  chap,  zxii.,  p.  77. 


; 


SDf! 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


On  the  following  day  the  family  party  at  Moo- 
shanne  were  tishembled  at  luncheon  under  a 
liirge  tree,  on  the  banks  of  the  Muskingum, 
fr«m  beneath  the  shade  of  which  the  gables  and 
irregular  chimneys  of  the  house  were  seen 
through  oc<.a  ional  openings  in  Lucy's  shruh> 
bery  j  while  the  deep  river  flowed  silently  on- 
ward,  bearing  away  in  its  tranquil  course  the 
lea  y  tribute  of  autumn  showered  upon  it  by 
the  light  breath  of  the  western  wind. 

Already  had  Prairie-bird  visited  the  spot 
•where  her  father's  house  had  stood,  the  site  of 
-which  was  only  to  be  recognized  by  a  few  heaps 
of  stones  and  blackened  timbers,  over  which  the 
luxuriant  mosses  iind  lichens,  with  whfch  that 
region  abounds,  had  long  sinrre  cast  their  mantle 
of  green,  while  a  few  apple,  plum,  and  peach 
trees,  unprotected  by  hedge  or  j'ence,  still  show- 
ed "where  once  the  garden  smiled." 

Colonel  Brandon  had  not  thought  it  advisable 
to  rebuild  either  the  house  or  the  offices  after 
their  destruction  by  the  savages,  but  had  con- 
tented himself  with  a  careful  administration  of 
his  late  friend's  property,  leaving  it  to  his  son 
Edward  to  choose  a  site  for  his  residence  at  a 
later  period.  Neither  must  it  be  supposed  that 
our  heroine  had  omitted  to  pay  a  morning  visit 
to  Nekimi,  who  now  knew  her  voice,  and  obey- 
ed her  call  like  an  affectionate  and  faithful  dog. 
As  soon  as  she  came  to  the  stable,  into  which 
he  had  been  turned  without  halter  or  fastening 
of  any  kind,  the  generous  animal,  after  saluting 
her  with  a  neigh  of  recognition,  rubbed  his  broad 
forehead  against  her  shoulder,  and  playfully  nib- 
bled the  grains  off  the  head  of  maize  which  she 
held  out  to  him ;  but  even  that  he  did  not  ven- 
ture to  do  until  he  had  acquired  a  claim  to  it  by 
holding  one  of  his  feet  up  and  pawing  with  it 
until  she  let  it  rest  in  her  delicate  hand.  It  must 
assuredly  have  been  by  mere  accident  that  Regi- 
nald entered  while  she  was  thus  employed,  and 
reminded  her  how  he  had,  with  prescient  hope, 
foretold  this  very  scene  amongst  the  rocky  cliffs 
of  the  far  distant  Andes.  Well  did  Prairie-bird 
remember  the  spot,  and  every  syllable  of  that 
prophecy ;  neither  did  she  afiect  to  have  forgot- 
ten it,  biit  with  a  sweet  blush  held  out  one  hand 
to  her  lover,  while  the  other  still  played  with  the 
silken  tresses  of  Nekimi's  mane. 

What  a  delightful  occupation  is  it  to  caress  a 
dumb  favourite  bv  the  side  of  one  beloved,  when 
the  words  of  endearing  tenderness  lavished  on 
the  unconscious  pet  are  the  outpourings  of  a 
heart  sensitively  snrinking  from  addressing  them 
directly  to  their  real  object  1  and  if  it  be  true 
that  many  a  sleek  and  glossy  spaniel  has  thus 
received  the  caress  intended  for  its  owner,  how 
much  more  natural  was  it  that  Reginald  and 
Prairie-bird  should  find  pleasure  in  bestowing 
their  caresses  on  a  noble  animal  endeared  to 
them  by  so  many  associations;  for  while  she 
remembered  how  often  Nekimi  had  borne  him 
in  the  chase  and  in  the  fight,  he  was  not  likely 
to  foreet  with  how  true  and  unwearied  a  step 
the  faithful  steed  had  carried  his  betrothed  over 
many  hundred  miles  of  mountain  and  of  prairie ; 
and  even  now,  as  her  hand  rested  in  his,  both  by 
a  conscious  sympathy  thought  of  Nekimi's  for- 
mer generous^  lord,  and  breathed  a  sigh  ever 
War-Eagle's  untimely  fate. 

To  return  to  our  party  assembled  round  tin 
luncheon  table  under  the  venerable  tree.  The 
first  tumult  of  joy  had  subsided,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  a  feeling  of  more  assured  happiness, 
"  a  sober  certainty  of  waking  bliss,"  which  per- 


vaded every  breast.  Aunt  Mary  contemplated 
her  lovely  niece  with  looks  of  the  fondest  affec- 
tion, recalling  in  her  sweet  smile  and  in  the  ex. 
pression  of  her  features  the  beloved  brother, 
whose  loss  she  had  with  deep  but  chastened 
grief  for  many  years  deplored ;  for  a  few  min- 
utes there  was  a  general  silence ;  one  of  those 
pauses  in  which  each  member  of  the  party  pon- 
dered, as  if  by  a  common  sympathy,  on  the  won- 
derful events  which  had  led  to  their  reunion, 
Lucy  was  the  first  to  break  it. 

"  Reginald,"  said  she,  "  you  related  to  us  yes- 
ter-evening the  commencement  of  your  home- 
ward journey,  and  how  the  Delaware  called 
'  Stony-heart'  was  permitted  by  the  Osages  to 
return  unhurt  to  your  camp :  you  must  resume 
the  thread  of  your  tale  where  you  left  it,  and  tell 
us  especially  how  and  where  you  parted  from 
dear  Wingenund,  to  whom  we  all  owe  a  debt 
of  gratitude  greater  than  we  can  ever  pay." 

*'  That  do  we  indeed,  Lucy,"  replied  her  bro- 
ther earnestly ;  "  fortunate  too  is  it  that  deeds  of 
generous  self-devotion  like  those  done  by  Win- 
genund reward  theni.«elves,  and  that  a  debt  of 
gratitude  to  one  whom  we  love  is  a  treasure,  not 
a  load  upon  the  breast.  You  remember  how  a 
writer,  who  used  to  be  a  favourite  with  you,  has 
expressed  it : 

'  A  graterul  mind 
By  owinj  owes  not,  but  (till  payi,  at  once 
Indebted  and  diicharged.' " 

"  What  a  beautiful  thought  I"  exclaimed  Prai- 
rie-bird eagerly;  "tell  me  the  book  wherein  I 
may  find  it  written.  Such  a  lovely  flower  as 
that  cannot  surely  grow  alone;  there  must  be 
others  of  similar  beauty. near  it." 

"  There  are,  indeed ;  fresh,  fragrant,  and  abun- 
dant as  on  a  western  prairie  in  June ;  '  Paradise 
Lost'  is  the  garden  wherein  they  grow ;  many 
of  the  descriptions  contained  in  it  are  among  the 
most  beautiful  in  our  language ;  I  hope  ere  long 
to  read  them  to  and  with  you,  dearest,"  he  added 
in  a  whisper,  intended  for  her  ear  alone;  "  there 
rre  some  lines  descrip'ive  of  Eve  as  she  first 
appeared  to  Adam,  which  always  seemed  to  me 
exaggerated  until  you  taught  my  eye  to  see  and 
my  heart  to  feel  their  truth." 

With  a  deep  blush  Prairle«bird  cast  her  dark 
eyes  upon  the  ground,  while  Reginald  continued 
aloud,  again  addressing  himself  to  Lucy : 

"  Our  own  adventures  after  we  crossed  the 
Platte  river  are  scarcely  worth  relating;  for, 
althongh  we  had  a  few  alarms  from  wandering 
parties  of  Pawnees,  Omahaws,  and  Dahcotahs, 
our  band  was  too  strong  and  too  well  armed  to 
fear  anything  from  their  open  attack ;  and  the 
ever- watchful  care  and  sagacity  of  Wingenund 
left  them  no  chance  of  surprising  us. 

"  The  warlike  spirit  and  experience  of  his 
noble  brother  seemed  to  have  descended,  like 
Elijah's  mantle,  upon  the  youth  ;  and  feeling  the 
responsibility  that  attached  to  him  as  leader  of 
th>;  party,  he  allowed  himself  little  rest  either 
by  day  or  by  night,  setting  the  watches  himself, 
and  visiting  them  repeatedly  at  intervals  to  as- 
certain that  they  were  on  the  alert.  He  always 
came  to  our  camp-fire  in  the  evening,  and  I  ob- 
served that  he'^aily  became  more  interested  in 
the  conversation  of  our  worthy  friend  the  Mis- 
sionary, and  more  anxious  to  understand  the 
principles  and  truths  of  Christianity  ;  in  so  do- 
\?H  he  was  not  only  following  the  bent  of  his 
own  .tmiable  and  gentle  disposition,  but  he  felt 
a  secret  pleasure  in  the  reffiembrance  that  he 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRU. 


203 


i^ontemplated 
ondest  affec- 
nd  in  the  ex. 
ved  bfottier, 
It  chahienea 
a  lew  min- 
one  of  iliose 
le  party  pon- 
,  on  the  won- 
leir  reunion, 

led  to  us  yes- 
your  home- 
iware  called 
ie  Osages  to 
nust  resume 
eft  it,  and  tell 
parted  from 
I  owe  a  debt 
rer  pay." 
plied  her  bro- 
that  deeds  of 
one  by  Win- 
at  a  debt  of 
I  treasure,  not 
tmber  how  a 
with  you,  has 


at  once 

ilaimed  Prai- 
)k  wherein  I 
fly  flower  as 
lere  must  be 

nt,  and  abun- 
e;  'Paradise 
grow;  many 
ire  among  the 
hope  ere  lone 
est,"  he  added 
ilone ;  "  there 
i  as  she  first 
seemed  lo  me 
ye  to  see  and 

jaat  her  dark 
aid  continued 
Lucy: 

!  crossed  the 
relating;  for, 
m  wandering 
1  Dahcouhs. 
rett  armed  to 
ick;  and  the 
I"  Wingenund 
s. 

ience  of  his 
scended,  like 
id  feeling  the 
as  leader  of 
B  rest  either 
:hes  himself, 
ervals  to  aa- 
He  always 
ng,  and  I  ob- 
interested  in 
3nd  the  Mis- 
lerstand  the 
y ;  in  so  do- 
)  bent  of  his 
n,  but  he  felt 
iDce  that  he 


m. 


was  fulAlling  the  last  wishes  of  his  dying  broth- 
er. I  dare  say  Paul  Miiller  would  now  tel!  you 
that  he  would  be  thankful  indeed  if  the  average 
of  professing  Christians  understood  and  prac- 
tised the  precepts  of  their  oroed  as  faithfully  as 
Wingenund." 

"  That  would  I  in  trnth,  my  son,"  replied  the 
Missionary ;  "  nevertheless  I  cannot  claim  the 
honour  of  having  been  the  instrument  of  the 
conversion  of  the  Delaware  youth  or  his  brother ; 
it  was  effected,  under  the  blessing  of  Heaven,  by 
the  patient,  zealous,  and  affectionate  exertion 
of  Prairie-bird." 

"Nay,  my  dear  father,  you  do  yourself  griev- 
ous wrong  in  so  speaking,"  said  Prairie-bird, 
reproachfully ;  "  and  even  were  it  as  you  say, 
to  whom  do  I  owe  everything  that  I  knowl 
whom  have  I  to  thank  that  I  was  not  left  in  the 
dark  and  hapless  condition  of  the  females  by 
whom  I  have  so  long  been  surrounded  V 

The  tears  gathereid  in  her  eyes  as  she  spoke, 
and  she  pressed  affectionately  to  her  lips  the 
hand  which  hei  adopted  father  extended  to  her. 

"  Yes,  my  sister  speaks  only  the  truth,"  said 
Ethelston,  addressing  the  Missionary  in  a  voice 
of  deep  emotion ;  "  we  all  feel  how  far  beyond 
the  power  of  words  we  are  indebted  to  you  for 
all  that  you  have  done  for  her,  and  we  only  trust 
that  some  opportunity  may  be  afforded  us  of 
showing  a  deep,  sincere,  and  permanent  grati- 
tude that  we  are  unable  to  express." 

Colonel  Brandon,  and  every  one  of  the  family 
circle,  rose  as  by  a  common  impulse,  and  one 
by  one  confirmed,  by  a  silent  pressure  of  the 
hand,  the  sentiment  expressed  by  Ethelston. 
The  venerable  man,  uncovering  his  head,  and 
allowing  the  breeze  to  waive  to  and  fro  his  sil- 
ver locks,  looked  for  a  minute  upon  the  kindred 
group  before  him,  and  thus  addressed  them : 

"  Think  you  not,  my  friends,  that  this  scene, 
these  happy  faces,  and  this  happy  home,  might 
well  rowan*  any  degren  or  duration  of  earthly 
toil?  But  toil  there  iias  been  none,  for  the 
teaching  and  nurture  of  this  sweet  child  has 
been  from  the  first  a  labour  of  love ;  and  the 
only  pain  or  regret  that  she  has  ever  caused  me, 
is  that  which  f  now  feel,  when  I  recollect  that  I 
must  resign  her  into  the  hands  of  her  natural 
guardians,  and  return  to  my  appointed  task, 
the  occasional  troubles  of  which  will  not  any 
more  be  sweetened  by  her  presence,  nor  its  vex- 
ations be  soothed  by  her  affection.  Such,  how- 
over,  is  the  will  of  Him  whom  I  serve,  and  far 
be  it  from  me  to  repine." 

"  Nay,"  interrupted  Reginald,  eagerly,  "  you 
will  not  leave  us  yet.  After  the  fatigues  and 
trials  of  this  summer,  you  will  surely  give  your- 
self some  repose." 

"  My  son,  I  would  gladly  dwell  awhile  in  this 
pleasant  and  happy  aluKJe ;  but  I  must  not  leave 
Wingenund  to  contend  unaided  against  the  dif- 
ficulties by  which  his  present  path  will  be  beset, 
the  doubts  and  temptations  which  may  assail 
him  from  within,  and  the  sneers  or  scorn  he 
may  experience  from  the  more  proud  and  vio- 
lent spirits  of  his  trihe." 

"  There  is,  however,  one  service  that  you  have 
promised  to  render  before  you  take  your  depar- 
ture from  Mdoshanne.  Perhaps  there  are  others 
here  beside  myself  who  wiH  urge  you  to  its  faith- 
fid  performance." 

This  bold  speech  threw  the  whoie  party  into 


momentary  confusion.  Prairie-bira,  pretending 
to  whisper  to  the  Missionary,  hid  her  blushing 
face  upon  his  shoulder ;  the  conscious  eyes  of 
Ethelston  and  Lucy  met ;  while  Aunt  Mary  be- 
stowed upon  Colonel  Brandon  one  of  those  know- 
ing smiles  with  which  elderly  ladies  usually  think 
fit  to  accompany  matrimonial  allusions. 

The  awkwardness  was  of  short  duration,  for 
the  mutual  feelings  of  the  parties  betrothed  were 
no  secret  to  any  present ;  and  Reginald  was  not 
of  a  disposition  to  endure  unnecessary  delays, 
so  he  drew  Prairie-bird  with  gentle  force  towards 
her  brother,  and  still  retaining  her  hand  in  his 
own,  he  said,  "  Ethelston,  will  you,  as  guardian 
of  your  Lister,  consent  to  my  retaining  this  fair 
handl  Beware  how  you  reply,  lest  I  should 
use  my  influence  against  you  in  a  request  which 
you  may  make  to  my  father." 

Had  Ethelston  been  ignorant  of  his  sister's 
feelings,  he  might  have  read  them  in  the  ex- 
pression of  her  blushing  countenance ;  but  being 
already  in  full  possession  of  them,  and  meeting 
a  smile  of  approval  from  Colonel  Brandon,  he 
placed  his  sister's  hand  within  that  of  Reginald, 
saying,  "  Take  her,  Reginald,  and  be  to  her  as 
a  husband,  true,  faithful,  and  affectionate,  as 
you  have  been  to  me  as  a  friend." 

It  will  not  be  supposed  that  Ethelston  waited 
long  for  the  consent  of  either  her  father  or  brother 
to  his  union  with  Lucy ;  and  Paul  Miiller  agreed 
to  remain  at  Mooshanne  one  week,  at  the  end 
of  which  time  the  double  ceremony  was  to  take 
place. 

While  these  interesting  arrangements  were 
in  progress,  the  noise  of  wheels,  and  the  tramp 
of  many  horses,  announced  the  approach  of  a 
large  party ;  upon  which  Colonel  Brandon,  ac- 
companied by  the  Missionary  and  Aunt  Mary, 
went  to  see  who  the  new  comers  might  t>e, 
leaving  the  two  young  couples  to  follow  at  their 
leisure.  The  Colonel  was  not  long  kept  in  sus- 
pense as  to  the  quality  of  his  visitors,  tor  before 
reaching  the  house,  he  heard  the  broad  accent 
of  David  Muir's  voice  addressing  Reginald's  at- 
tendant. 

"  Thank  ye,  thank  ye,  Maister  Parrot,"  for 
so  did  he  pronounce  the  Frenchman's  name ; 
"  if  ye'll  just  haud  the  uncanrv  beast  by  the 
head,  Jessie  can  step  on  the  wheel  an'  be  doon 
in  a  crack.  There,  I  tauld  ye  so ;  it's  a'  right 
noo;  and  Jessie,  lass,  ye  need  na'  look  sae 
frighted,  for  your  new  gown's  nae  rumpled,  an' 
Hairy  will  tak'  the  bit  parcel  into  the  house  for 
ye." 

"  Indeed,  father,  1  am  not  frightened,"  said 
Jessie,  settling  the  side  curls  under  her  bonnet 
upon  her  gloWing  cheek,  and  giving  the  parcel 
to  Henry  Gregson,  whose  hands  had  for  the 
moment  encircled  her  waist  as  she  jumped  from 
the  wheel  to  the  ground.  Several  vehicles  of 
various  descriptions  followed,  containing  the 
spoils  and  baggage  brought  back  from  the  prai- 
ries, together  with  Pierre,  Bearskin,  and  all  the 
members  of  the  party  who  had  accompanied 
Reginald  and  Ethelston,  and  who  now  came  to 
offer  their  congratulation  on  the  events  attend- 
ing their  safe  return ;  for  the  story  c  the  won- 
derful restoration  of  Ethelston's  sister  to  her 
family  had  already  spread  throughout  the  neigh- 
bimrhood,  receiving  as  it  went  various  additions 
and  embellishments  from  the  lovers  of  the  mar- 
vellous. 


r, 


■h 

ii! 


; 


THE   PRAIRIEBIRD. 


lif 


Meanwhile,  Jessie  Muir  had  gathered  from 
Monsieur  Perrot  sufficient  information  respect' 
ing  the  true  slato  of  affairs,  to  set  her  mind  at 
rest  with  respect  to  Reginald  Brandon's  inten- 
tions ;  and  encouraged  by  the  interest  which  tlie 
Colonel  and  Lucy  had  always  taken  in  her  pros 
pects,  she  felt  a  secret  assurance  that  they 
would  prove  powerful  auxiliaries  in  advocating 
the  cause  of  Harry  Gregson,  and  reconciling 
her  parents  to  his  suit.  Neither  was  she  mis- 
taken in  her  calculation,  for  while  the  prepara- 
tion for  the  entertainment  of  the  numerous 
guests  was  going  forward,  Colonel  Brandon, 
after  a  brief  consultation  with  Ethelston,  called 
David  Muir  aside,  and  opened  to  him  the  sub- 
ject of  the  youth's  attachment  to  his  daughter. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  whether  the  surprise,  or 
the  wrath  of  the  merchant  were  the  greater  on 
hearing  this  intelligence,  which  was  not  only  a 
death-blow  to  his  own  ambitious  hopes,  but 
was,  in  his  estimation,  an  act  of  unpardonable 
presumption  on  the  part  of  young  Gregaon. 

"  Colonel,  ye're  surely  no  in  airnest !  it's  no 
possible !  Jessie,  come  here,  ye  hizzie !"  said 
he,  stamping  with  anger,  and  raising  his  voice 
to  a  louder  pitch. 

It  happened  that  Jessie,  being  engaged  in  con- 
versation with  Monsieur  Perrot,  did  not  hear  his 
call,  and  the  Colonel  took  the  opportunity  of 
leading  him  a  little  further  from  the  house,' and 
entreating  his  calm  attention  to  the  explanations 
which  he  had  to  give.  David  walked  on  in  si- 
lence, his  face  still  red  with  anger,  and  his  heart 
secretly  trembling  within  him  when  he  thought 
of  his  next  interview  with  Dame  Christie. 

The  Colonel,  who  knew  both  the  weak  and 
the  good  points  of  his  companion's  character, 
dexterously  availing  himself  of  both,  eflTected  in 
a  few  minutes  a  considerable  change  in  his 
views  and  feelings  on  tlie  subject.  He  repre- 
sented to  him  that  Ethelston  would  now  have  a 
house  and  establishment  of  his  own ;  that  his 
property  was  already  very  considerable,  and, 
with  prudent  management,  would  receive  grad- 
ual augmentation ;  and  that,  from  his  attach- 
ment to  Gregson,  it  was  his  intention  to  make 
the  honest  mate's  son  the  managing  agent  of  his 
concerns  -,  to  facilitate  whinh  purpose  he,  Colo- 
nel Brandon,  proposed  to  advance  a  few  thous- 
and dollars,  and  to  establish  the  yo'  .ig  man  in 
a  suitable  house  in  Marietta. 

"  David,"  continued  the  Colonel,  "  you  and  I 
have  long  been  acquainted ;  and  I  do  not  think 
you  ever  yet  knew  me  to  give  you  counsel  likely 
to  injure  your  welfare  or  yonr  prospects,  and 
yoa  may  trust  me  that  I  would  not  willingly  do 
so  now.  The  young  people  are  attached  to  each 
other ;  they  may  certainly  be  separated  by  force ; 
but  their  hearts  are  already  united.  Harry  is  an 
honest,  industrious,  enterprising  lad ;  he  will 
start  in  the  world  with  fair  prospects;  every 
year  will  lend  him  experience ;  and  as  you  and 
I  are  both  of  us  on  the  wrong  side  of  jfty,  we 
may  be  very  glad  a  few  summers  hence  to  rest 
from  active  business,  and  to  have  about  us 
those  to  whom  we  can  entrust  our  affairs  with 
well-placed  confidence." 

There  was  much  in  this  speech  that  tended  to 
soothe,  as  well  as  to  convince,  the  merchhnt. 
He  was  gratified  by  the  familiar  and  friendly 
expressions  employed  by  the  Colonel,  while  his 
shrbwd  understanding  took  in  at  a  rapid  glance 


the  prospective  advantages  that  might  accrue  to- 
the  agent  managing  the  extensive  affairs  of  the 
famflies  of  Brandon  and  Ethelston  ;  added  to 
this,  he  was  at  heart  a  fond  and  affectionate 
father ;  and  the  symptoms  of  irritation  began  to 
disappear  from  his  countenance ;  yet  he  scarcely 
k-new  how  to  reply,  and  before  even  he  meant 
to  speak,  the  name  of  his  gude-wife  escaped 
from  his  lips. 

"  Leave  me  to  manage  Dame  Christie,"  said 
the  Colonel,  smiling.  ■*  Ethelston  shall  go  inta 
Marietta  himself,  and  break  the  subject  to  her, 
founding  his  request  upon  his  regard  for  the  eld- 
er Gregson,  who  has  served  under  him  so  faith- 
fully ever  since  his  boyhood.  Come,  my  good 
friend,  let  us  join  the  party  :  I  do  not  press  you 
for  any  reply  now ;  but  if  you  should  detect  a 
stolen  glance  of  affection  between  the  young 
people,  do  not  be  angry  with  Jessie,  but  think 
of  the  day  when  you  first  went  forth,  dressed 
in  your  best,  to  win  a  smile  from  Dame  Christie." 

"Ah,  Colonel,  ye're  speakin'  of  auld  lang 
syne  nowl"  said  the  merchant,  whose  ill- 
humour  was  no  longer  proof  against  the  friendly 
suggestions  of  his  patron,  though  he  muttered 
to  himself,  in  an  undertone,  as  they  returned 
towards  the  house,  "I  ken  now  why  Maister 
Hairy  was  aye  sae  fond  o'  the  store,  when  the 
ither  lads  were  fain  to  win'  awa  to  hunt  in  the 
woods,  or  to  fish  in  the  river !  Weel  a  weel, 
he's  a  douce  oallant,  an'  the  lassie  might  aiblins 
gae  farther  an'  fare  waur !" 

The  preparations  for  the  entertainment  were 
still  in  progress,  under  the  superintendence  of 
Aunt  Mary  and  Monsieur  Perrot,  the  latter  hav- 
ing already  doffed  his  travelling  attire,  and  as- 
sumed, in  his  jacket  of  snowy  white,  the  com- 
mand of  the  kitchen,  when  Harry  Gregson,  who 
had  opened  the  Marietta  post-bag,  put  a  letter 
into  the  hands  of  Reginald  Brandon,  which  he 
instantly  knew,  by  the  bold,  careless  hand- 
writing, to  be  from  his  uncle  Marmaduke.  He 
broke  the  seal,  and  read  as  follows : — 

"Shirley  Hall,  Julr  15. 
"DcAR  Reginald, 
"  I  have  very  lately  received  your  letter,  an- 
nouncing your  Intention  of  making  a  hunting 
excursion  in  the  west,  in  pursuit  of  bears,  elk, 
wolves,  Indians,  and  other  wild  beasts.  I  hope 
you'll  come  safe  back,  with  a  score  or  two  of 
their  outlandish  brushes.  After  you  left  me,  I 
began  to  feel  very  uncomfortable,  and  did  not 
know  what  was  the  matter,  for  I  was  cold  by 
night,  and  sulky  and  out  of  sorts  by  day.  Parson 
Williams  took  me  in  hand ;  but  though  we 
drank  many  a  bottle  of  old  port  together,  and 
played  drafts,  and  attended  several  road-meet- 
ings (which  you  know  was  an  amusement  I 
had  never  tried  before),  it  was  all  no  use,  and 
I  began  to  think  that  I  was  on  a  downhill  road 
to  the  next  world ;  but,  somehow  or  other,  it 
happened  that  I  dropped  in  now  and  then  to  the 
parsonage,  and  whenever  I  had  talked  half  an 
hour  with  Margaret,  (you  remember  Margaret, 
the  parson's  daughter,)  I  felt  in  a  better  humour 
with  myself  and  all  the  world.  So  matters 
went  on,  until  one  day  I  mustered  courage  to 
ask  her  to  come  up  to  the  hall,  and  change  her 
name  to  Shirley.  She  did  so,  and  your  old 
uncle  writes  with  the  halter  round  his  neck. 
When  I  married,  Perkins  came  down  from 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


SOS 


istie,"  said 

shall  go  mi<y 

jeot  to  her, 

for  the  eld> 

lim  BO  faith- 

18,  my  good 

It  press  you 

lid  detect  a 

the  young 

e,  but  think 

th,  dressed 

le  Christie." 

auld  lang 

whose  ill- 

the  friendly 

le  muttered 

ey  returned 

'hy  Maister 

e,  when  the 

hunt  in  the 

Vee\  a  weel, 

light  aiblins 

nment  were 
tendence  of 
i  latter  hav- 
tire,  and  as- 
te,  the  com- 
regson,  who 
put  a  letter 
n,  which  ho 
eless  hand- 
aduke.    He 

til  .  - 
[all,  Juljr  15. 

r  letter,  an- 
;  a  hunting 
f  bears,  elk,. 
Its.    I  hope 

or  two  of 
i  left  me,  I 
md  did  not 
ras  cold  by 
lay.  Parson 
though  we 
gether,  and 
road-meet- 
insement  I 
no  use,  and 
vnhill  road 
or  other,  it 
then  to  the 
;ed  half  an 
'  Margaret, 
ter  humour 
So  matters 
courage  to 
ihange  her 
I  your  old 

his  neck, 
own  from 


Tendon  (the  son  of  my  father's  solicitor)  with  a 
.'>n  boxes  «f  parchment,  in  a  post-chaise; 
vi :  made  me  sign  my  namo  at  least  a  score  of 
iintos;  afi^r  which  I  desired  him  to  draw  up 
two  more  deeds  for  my  pleasure.  These  were 
for  transferring  to  yourself,  anil  to  your  sister, 
a  legacy  left  me  a  few  years  ago  by  an  old  rela- 
tion whom  I  had  never  seen,  and  whose  m  jney 
I  did  not  want.  The  amount  is  forty  thousand 
pounds ;  so  there  will  be  twenty  thousand 
pounds  a-piece  for  you,  and  you  may  set  to  work 
and  clear  (as  you  used  to  call  it)  an  estate  as 
big  as  the  old  county  of  Warwick.  I  e.xplained 
what  I  was  about  to  Meg,  telling  her,  at  the 
same  time,  that  it  was  a  debt  that  I  owed  you 
in  conscience,  having  consider  a1  you  fur  so 
many  years  as  my  heir,  until  her  plaguing  black 
eyes  made  a  fool  of  me,  and  threatened  me  with 
the  prospect  of  brats  of  my  own.  For  this  she 
pulled  my  ears  twice ;  first,  for  calling  her  Meg 
instead  of  Greta,  by  which  name  she  was  known 
at  the  parsonag'? ;  and  secondly,  for  talking 
about  the  brats,  a  subject  which  always  makes 
her  cheeks  redden.  But  I  had  no  idea  of  put- 
ting the  reins  into  her  hand  so  early  in  the  day, 
and  I  told  her  outright,  that  the  first  boy  should 
be  called  Reginald,  to  please  me ;  and  the  sec- 
ond might  be  called  Gretu,  to  please  her ;  and 
the  third  might  be  called  Marmauuke,  to  please 
tlB  family ;  on  which,  without  waiting  to  hear 
any  more,  she  bolted,  and  left  me  master  of  the 
field.  I  have  just  mentioned  this,  in  order  that 
you,  if  ever  you  get  into  a  similar  scrape,  may 
know  how  to  behave  yourself.  Mr.  Perkins 
has  completed  his  deeds  of  assignment,  and  has 
received  my  inslructions  to  transfer  the  money 
to  America  by  the  ne.xt  vessel,  in  bills  upon 
Messrs.  Powell  and  Co.  of  Philadelphia ;  and 
though  I  have  more  than  once  found  you  as 
proud  and  as  straight- laced  as  a  turkey-cock 
where  money  was  concerned,  I  know  that  you 
dare  not,  you  dog ! — I  say  you  dare  not  refuse, 
either  for  yourself  or  your  sister,  this  token  of 
the  affectionate  regard  of  your  uncle, 

"  Marhvoiike  Shibi.ey." 

The  flush  that  came  over  Reginald's  open 
countenance  as  he  read  this  epistle  from  his 
eccentric  but  warm-hearted  relative,  did  not 
escape  the  watchful  eye  of  Lucy,  who  was 
standing  near  him,  and  she  anxiously  inquired 
whether  it  contained  any  unpleasant  intelligence. 

"  Read  it,  Lucy,  and  judge  for  yourself,"  he 
replied,  while  he  went  to  communicate  itt>  con- 
tents to  Colonel  Brandon. 

We  will  leave  to  the  reader's  imagination  |he 
mirlh  and  festivity  that  reigned  at  Moosharine 
during  that  happy  evening;  how  Pierre,  Bap- 
tiste,  and  Bearskin  talked  over  their  adventures 
of  ancient  and  of  recent  date ;  how  David  Muir's 
grey  eye  twinkled  when  he  detected  Jessie 
exchanging  a  stolen  glance  with  Harry  Greg- 
son  ;  how  the  cheers  rang  through  the  forest 
when  the  Colonel  proposed  the  health  of  Prai- 
rie-bird, the  long-lost  child  of  his  dearest  friend, 
the  bride  of  his  only  son ;  and  how  Aunt  Mary's 
sweetmeats  and  preserves  adorned  her  snowy 
table-cloth ;  and  how  Monsieur  Perrot  had  con- 
trived, as  if  by  magic,  to  load  the  hospitable 
hoard  with  every  swimming,  flying,  and  running 
eatable  creature  to  he  found  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, dressed  in  every  known  variety  of  form. 


The  healths  of  Ethelston  and  Colonel  Brandon 
hail  not  been  forgotten ;  and  the  latter,  observ- 
ing a  shade  of  melancholy  upon  his  son'a  brow, 
said  to  him  aloud,  "  Reginald,  you  have  not  yet 
given  your  friends  a  toast,  they  claim  it  of  you 
now.'' 

Thus  addressed,  Reginah],  reading  in  the 
dark  eyes  of  his  betrothed,  reelings  kindred  to 
his  own,  said  in  a  voice  of  deep  and  undisguised 
emotion,  "My  friends,  you  will  not  blame  me 
if  I  interrupt  for  a  moment  the  current  of  your 
mirth,  but  it  would  be  doing  equal  injustice,  I 
am  sure,  to  your  feelings  and  to  my  own,  were 
we  to  part  without  a  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
one,  now  no  mure,  to  whose  self-devoted  he- 
roism Efhelston  owes  the  life  of  a  sister,  and  I 
the  dearest  treasure  I  possess  b,i  earth :  The 
memory  of  my  Indian  brother,  War-Eagle,  late 
Chief  of  the  Delawares  !'* 

The  party  rose  in  silence,  every  head  was 
uncovered,  a  tear  trembled  on  the  long  lashes 
of  Prairie-bird'a  downcast  eye,  and  Baptiste 
muttered  to  himself,  yet  loud  enough  to  be 
heard  by  all  present,  as  he  reversed  his  glass, 
"  Here's  to  the  memory  of  the  boldest  hand,  the 
fleetest  foot,  and  the  truest  heart  among  the 
sons  of  the  Lenape !" 

As  the  day  was  now  drawing  to  a  close, 
David  Miiir  returned  to  Marietta,  Ethelston 
having  promised  to  pay  a  visit  to  Dame  Christie 
on  the  following  day.  The  Merchant  was  so 
elated  by  the  day's  festivities,  that  he  winked 
his  grey  twinkling  eye  at  Jessie,  forgetting  at 
the  moment  that  she  knew  nothing  of  the  con- 
versation that  had  passed  between  the  Cubnel 
and  himself;  and  when  the  youth  in  escorting 
tnem  homeward,  warned  David  of  sundry  holes 
and  stumps  upon  the  road,  t  ereby  enabling 
them  to  avoid  them,  he  poked  his  elbow  into 
J  "tssie's  side,  saying,  "  He's  a  canny  lad,  yon 
Hairy  Gregson ;  what  think  ye,  Jeissel"  She 
thought  thai  her  father  was  crazy,  but  she  said 
nothing;  and  a  certain  vague  sensation  of  hope 
came  over  her,  that  all  was  going  more  smoothly 
for  her  wishes  than  she  had  dared  to  expect. 

For  the  ensuing  week  the  whole  village  of 
Marietta  was  enlivened  by  the  preparations  for 
the  two-fold  wedding  at  Moodhanne  ;  silks,  rib- 
bone,  and  trinkets  without  end  were  bought,  and 
there  was  not  a  settlement  within  fifty  miles  in 
which  the  miraculous  return  of  Reginald  Bran- 
don's bride  was  not  the  theme  of  discourse  and 
wonder.  Paul  Miiller  became  in  a  few  days  so 
universally  beloved  at  Mooshanne,  that  all  the 
members  oftlie  family  shared  in  i.he  regret  with 
which  Prairie-bird  contemplated  his  approach- 
ing departure ;  and  as  they  became  more  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  him,  and  drew  from 
him  the  various  information  with  which  his 
mind  was  stored,  they  no  longer  marvelled  at 
the  education  that  he  had  found  means,  even  in 
the  wilderness,  to  bestow  upon  his  adopted 
child.  Colonel  Brandon  was  extremely  desi- 
rous to  make  him  some  present  in  token  of  the 
gratitude  which  he  in  common  with  all  his 
family,  felt  towards  the  worthy  Missionary,  and 
spoke  more  than  once  with  Reginald  on  the 
subject:  but  the  latter  stopped  him,  saying, 
"  My  dear  father,  leave  us  to  manage  that,  we 
have  entered  into  a  secret  conspiracy,  and  must 
entreat  you  not  to  forbid  our  carrying  it  into  ex- 
ecution." 


%. 


906 


THE    PRAIRIE. BIRD. 


Thfl  Colnnol  imilnd,  and  protnisH  obodionoe,  | 
knowjnif  that  those  in  whoie  handa  the  matter 
reated,  were  more  familiar  with  the  (|(mm1  man'a 
wanla  and  wiahea  than  he  oould  be  himtelf. 

At  l(>ngth  the  week,  lonR  aa  it  may  have  ap- 
peared  to  Reginald  and  Ethelotun,  paused  away. 
The  morning  which  united  them  tu  those  whom 
they  had  reapeotively  loved  throuKli  ao  many 
triala  and  dangera,  arrived ;  and  Paul  Miiller, 
having  joined  the  hand  of  hia  beloved  pupil  to 
the  choaen  or  her  heart,  prepared  to  take  hia 
leave,  when  ahe  knelt  to  him  for  hia  bleating. 
With  faltering  voice  and  tearful  eyea  he  gave  It ; 
•he  could  not  apeak,  but  pointing  to  a  amall  box 
that  atood  upon  an  adjoining  talile,  with  a  letter 
addreaaed  to  him  beaide  it,  yielded  to  the  gen- 
tle force  with  which  her  bridegroom  drew  her 
from  the  room. 

Taking  up  the  letter,  the  Miaaionary  read  as 
follows : — 

"  Oh,  my  beloved  preceptor  and  father,  let  me 
once  again  thank  you  for  all  your  goodneaa  and 
affectionate  care !  for  to  you,  next  to  my  Father 
in  heaven,  do  I  owe  all  my  present  happiness, 
and  all  my  knowledge  of  that  Saviour  who  is 
my  everlasting  hope  and  truat.  My  heart 
would  sink  under  the  thought  of  being  separated 
from  you,  if  I  did  not  know  that  you  are  return- 
to  my  dear  young  brother  Wingenund,  to  guide 
and  assist  him  in  the  good  path  that  he  has 
chosen ;  tell  him  again  and  again  how  dearly 
we  all  love  him,  and  that  day  after  day,  and 
night  after  night,  he  shall  be  remembered  in  his 
aister'a  prayers. 

"  I  am  sure  you  will  not  forsake  him,  but  will 
give  him  your  advice  in  teaching  his  Lenap6 
brothers,  who  have  laid  aside  the  tomahawk,  to 
cultivate  the  earth,  and  to  raise  corn  and  other 
nourishing  food  for  their  little  ones.  You  will 
alao  continue  your  favourite  and  blessed  work 
of  spreading  among  them,  and  the  surrounding 
tribes,  the  light  of  the  Gospel.  Edward  and 
Reginald  tell  me  that  for  these  objects  nearest 
your  heart,  gold  and  silver  can  be  usefully  ap 
plied,  and  they  desire  me  to  entreat  your  accept- 
ance of  this  box  containing  a  thousand  dollars, 
one  half  to  be  expended  as  you  may  think  best 
for  spreading  Christianity  among  our  I'jdian 
brethren,  and  the  other  half  in  seeds,  working- 
tools,  and  other  things  necessary  for  Wingenund 
and  those  who  dwell  with  him. 

"  I  hope  you  will  come  and  see  us  at  least 
once  in  every  year,  to  tell  us  of  the  health  and 
welfare  of  Wingenund.  If  you  can  bring  him 
with  you,  the  sight  of  him  will  make  glad  our 
eyes  and  hearts. 

"  Farewell,  dear  father.  Forgive  the  faults  in 
this  letter,  remembering,  that  although  I  have 
read  so  much  to  you  and  with  you,  I  have  had 
little  practice  in  writing,  and  neither  Reginald 
nor  Edward  will  alter  or  correct  one  word  for 
me;  they  both  smile  and  say  it  will  do  very 
well ;  perhaps  it  may,  for,  without  it,  you  know 
alreiiriy  how  dearly  you  are  loved  and  honoured 
by  your  affectionate  and  ever- grateful, 

"  PrairiB'Biho." 


SUPPLEMENTARY  CHAPTER. 
SopposiNo  the  gentle  reader  to  have  taken 
Bufficifint  interest  in  Prairie-bird  to  be  desirous 
of  learning  something  of  the  after  fortunes  of 


herself,  and  Ihooe  cuhiie«;ted  witn  her,  we  sub. 
join  a  letter  which  icoldentally  came  into  our 
possession,  and  which  upfwars  to  have  neen 
written  a  few  years  subsequent  to  the  date  of 
the  conclusion  of  the  preceding  tale. 

"  at  I.OUII,  June  ISih,  1»— 
'  DcAR  Ethilston, 
"  I  have  just  returned  from  my  long-promised 
visit  to  Wingenund,  whose  villu«e  is  situated 
as  you  know,  not  far  from  the  southern  banks 
of  tho  Missouri,  about  one  hundred  miles  be- 
yond St.  Charlea's.    I  found  there  our  respect- 
ed and  venerable  friend  Paul  Miiller,  whose  In. 
lereourso  with  Wingenund  and  his  hand  has 
been  for  some  years  almoat  uninterrupted,  and 
productive  of  the  most  striking  improvement 
both  in  the  village  itself,  and  In  tho  character 
and  manners  of  its  inhabitants.    Several  small 
settlements  of  Delawares  are  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, all  of  whom  acknowledge  Wingenund  as 
their  chief;  and  most  of  them  have  availed 
themselves,  more  or  less,  of  tho  teaching  of  tho 
exenuilary  Missionary. 

"  The  village  is  situated  on  the  side  of  a  hill, 
gently  sloping  to  the  south,  along  the  base  of 
which  flows  a  considerable  stream,  which,  af- 
ter watering  the  valley  below,  falls  into  the 
Missouri  at  a  distance  of  a  few  miles.  The 
huts,  or  cottages  occupied  by  the  Delawareajro 
built  chiefly  of  w(K>d  ;  and  each  having  a  |lr- 
den  attached  to  it,  they  present  a  very  neat  and 
comfortable  appearance.  That  of  Wingenund 
IS  larger  than  the  rest,  having  on  one  side  a 
compartment  reserved  entirely  for  the  use  of 
the  Missionary;  and  on  the  other  a  large  oblong 
room,  in  which  are  held  their  devotional  meet- 
ings ;  the  latter  serves  also  the  purpose  of  a 
schoolroom  for  the  education  of  the  children. 
You  would  be  surprised  at  the  progress  made 
by  them,  and  by  many  of  the  adults,  in  reading,. 
as  well  as  in  agriculture  and  other  useful  craft  ; 
and  I  must  own  that  when  my  eye  fell  upon 
their  ploughs,  hammors,  saws,  chisels,  and  oth- 
er utensils,  and  then  rested  on  the  Bibles,  a 
copy  of  which  is  in  every  dwelling,  I  felt  a 
deep  and  gratifying  conviction,  that  our  annual 
present  to  Wingenund  has  been  productive  of 
blessings,  quite  beyond  our  most  sanguine  ex- 
pectations. 

"  I  need  scarcely  tell  you,  that  his  reception 
of  me  was  that  of  a  man  welcoming  a  long-ab- 
sent brother.  He  fell  on  my  neck,  and  held 
me  for  some  time  embraced  without  speaking ; 
and  when  be  inquired  about  his  dear  sister  Oli- 
tipa,  hib  Voice  resumed  the  soft,  and  almost 
fefninine  tones  that  I  formerly  noticed  in  iu 
when  he  was  under  the  influence  of  strong 
emotion.  In  outward  appearance  he  is  much 
changed  since  you  last  saw  him,  having  growa 
both  in  breadth  and  height ;  indeed,  I  am  not 
sure  whether  he  is  not  now  almost  as  tine  a 
specimen  of  his  race  as  was  his  noble  brother, 
whom  I  never  can  mention  or  think  of  without 
a  sign  of  affectionate  regret.  Yet  in  his  ordi- 
nary hearing,  it  is  evident  that  Wingenund, 
from  his  peaceful  habits  and  avocations,  has 
lost  something  of  that  free  and  fearless  air, 
that  distinguished  his  warrior  brother.  I  have 
learnt,  however,  from,  Baptiste,  (who,  as  you 
knoiv,  insisted  upon  accompanying  me  on  thia 
expedition,)  that  the  lire  of  former  days  is  sub. 


THE  PRAIRIE-BIRD. 


SOT 


na  19th,  18— 


anguine  ex- 


dued,  not  extingulilied  within  him,  aa  you  will 

Kerceivc!  froin  tliu  rollowinK  anoodute,  piokml  up 
y  (iiir  ft'iend  the  Ouulo  friiin  lumo  uf  hit  ultl 
BO^uaintanne  in  the  village. 

"  It  appeara  that  Inat  autumn  a  hand  of  In- 
diana will)  had  given  up  thpir  lands  anmewhern 
near  the  head  waters  of  the  Illinoia  river,  and 
were  moving  westward  fur  a  wider  range  and 
better  hunting-ground,  passrd  through  this  dis 
trict ;  and  seeing  thn  iM'ucnful  habits  and  occu- 
palinns  o(  the  Uelawares  sritlfd  hereahouts, 
thouuht  that  they  might  ho  injured  and  plun- 
dered with  impunity.  They  accordingly  came 
one  night  to  a  amall  settlement  only  a  few 
miles  from  here,  and  carried  ofT  a  few  score 
of  horses  and  cattle,  burning  at  the  same  time 
the  dwelling  of  one  of  the  Dclawares,  and  kill- 
ing a  young  man  who  attempted  to  defend  his 
father's  prr,,>erty.  A  messenger  having  brought 
this  intelligencb  to  Wingenund,  he  collected  a 
score  of  his  most  trusty  followers,  and  taking 
care  that  they  were  well  armed,  went  upon  the 
trail  of  the  maraiidera.  He  soon  came  up  with 
them ;  and  their  numbers  being  more  than 
double  hi^  own,  they  haughtily  refused  nil  par- 
ley and  redrcus,  tcllini;  him  that  if  he  did  not 
withdraw  his  band  thoy  would  destroy  it  as 
they  had  destroyed  the  ynung  Delaware  and  his 
house  on  the  prece/ftng  night. 

"  This  insolent  speech  uttered  by  the  leader 
of  the  party,  a  powerful  and  athletic  Indian, 
aroused  the  indignation  of  Wingenund ;  his 
eyes  flashed  fire,  nnd  his  followers  saw  that  the 
warrior  spirit  of  his  early  days  was  rekindled 
within  him.  Ordering  them  to  unsling  and  lev- 
el their  rides,  but  nut  to  fire  until  he  gave  the 
word,  he  drew  near  to  the  leader  of  the  party, 
and  in  a  stern  voice  desired  him  to  restore  the 
plunder  and  give  up  the  murderer  of  the  Dela- 
ware youth.  The  reply  was  a  shout  of  defi- 
ance ;  and  a  blow  levelled  at  his  head,  which 
he  parried  with  hia  rifle,  and  with  a  heavy 
stroke  from  its  butt,  he  levelled  hia  antagonist 
on  the  ground ;  then,  swift  as  a  panther'a 
spring,  he  leaped  upon  the  fallen  Indian's  chest, 
and  held  a  dagger  to  his  throat. 

"Panic-struck  by  the  discomfiture  of  their 
leader,  and  by  the  resolute  and  determined  atti- 
tude of  the  Delawares,  the  marauders  entreated 
that  his  life  might  be  spared,  promising  to  give 
all  the  redress  required ;  and  on  the  same  day 
Wingenund  returned  to  his  village,  bringing  with 
him  the  recovered  horses  and  cattle,  and  the 
Indian  charged  with  the  murder,  whom  he  would 
not  allow  to  be  punished  according  to  the  Dela- 
ware notions  of  retributive  justice,  but  sent  him 
to  be  tried  at  a  circuit  court,  then  sitting  near 
St.  Chft  ""'.  This  exploit  has  completely  es- 
tablishev;  vur  yc  ig  friend's  authority  among 
hia  people,  some  of  whom  were,  if  the  truth  must 
be  told,  rather  disposed  to  despise  the  peaceful 
occupations  that  he  encoura^,  and  even  to 
hint  that  his  intercourse  with  the  Missionary 
had  quenched  all  manly  spirit  within  him.  You 
will  be  surprised  to  hear  that  he  has  married 
Lita,  who  was  for  a  long  while  so  deeply  attach- 
ed to  his  brother ;  even  had  she  been  the  wife 
of  the  latter,  this  would  have  been  as  confoima- 
hle  to  Indian  as  to  ancient  Jewish  usage.  She 
now  speaks  English  intelligibly,  and  asked  mc  a 
thousand  questions  ^boul  Prairie-bird.    Fortu- 


nately, she  had  chosen  a  subject  of  which  I  could 
never  weary ;  and  I  willingly  replied  to  all  her 
inquiries ;  when  I  told  her  that  her  former  mis- 
tress and  favourite  had  now  three  little  ones, 
the  eldest  of  whom  was  able  to  run  about  from 
morning  till  night,  and  the  youngest  named 
Wingenund,  after  her  husband,  te<irs  of  joy  and 
of  awakened  remembrance  started  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  understood  her  s'ient  emotion,  and  loved 
her  for  it.  How  changed  is  her  countenance 
from  the  expression  it  wore  when  I  first  saw  it  f 
Then  it  was  at  one  moment  wild  and  sad,  like 
that  of  a  captive  pining  for  freedom  ;  at  the  next, 
dark  anil  piercing,  like  that  of  the  daughter  of 
some  haughty  chief  Now  you  may  read  upon 
her  face  the  gentle  feelings  uf  the  placid  am' 
contented  wife. 

"  Wlion  I  left  the  village,  Wingenund  accom- 
panied me  for  many  miles ;  twice  he  stopped  to 
take  leave  of  me,  when  some  still  unsatisfied 
inquiry  respecting  your  Lucy,  or  Prairie-bird, 
rose  to  his  lips,  and  again  he  moved  on ;  I  can 
scarcely  remember  that  he  uttered  any  distinct 
profession  of  his  affection  for  any  uf  us,  and  yet 
I  saw  that  his  heart  was  full ;  and  what  a  heart 
it  is,  denr  Edward  !  fear,  and  falsehood,  and  self 
are  all  alike  strangers  there !  When  at  length 
we  parted,  he  pressed  me  in  silence  against  his 
breast,  wrung  the  hand  of  Baptiste,  and  turned 
away  with  so  rapid  a  stride,  that  one  who  knew 
him  not  would  have  thought  wo  had  parted  ii> 
anger. 

"  On  reaching  thn  summit  of  a  hill  whence  I 
could  commann  a  view  of  the  track  that  I  had 
followed,  I  unslung  my  telescope,  and,  earefully 
surveying  the  prairie  to  the  westward,  I  could 
distinguish,  at  a  distance  of  several  miles,  Win- 
genund seated  under  a  stunted  oak  with  bis  face 
buried  in  his  hands,  and  in  an  attitude  uf  deep 
dejection.  I  could  scarcely  repress  a  rising 
tear,  for  that  youth  has  inherited  all  the  affec- 
tion that  1  felt  for  him  to  whom  I  owe  my 
Evelyn's  life ! 

"  Harry  Gregson  and  his  wife  are  very  com- 
fortably settled  here,  and  appear  to  be  thriving 
in  their  worldly  concerns.  I  have  been  several 
times  to  his  counting-house,  and,  from  the  re- 
turns which  he  showed  me.  ynur  investments 
in  the  fur-trade,>as  well  as  in  land,  seemed  to 
have  been  most  successful. 

"Jessie's  looks  are  not  quite  so  youthful  as 
they  were  when  she  was  the  belle  of  Marietta^ 
but  she  has  the  beauty  of  unfailing  good-temper, 
which  we  Benedicts  prize  at  a  rate  unknown  to- 
bachelors.  Harry  has  promised  to  pay  's  a  visit 
this  autumn ;  he  will  be  delighted  with  the  nevr 
house  that  you  have  built  for  his  father,  sinc» 
his  promotion  to  the  rank  of  Captain. 

"  Perrot  has  found  so  many  '  compatriots' 
here,  that  he  chatters  from  morning  till  night ; 
and  his  wonderful  adventures,  by  'flood  and 
field,'  both  in  Europe  and  the  Western  Prairies^ 
have  rendered  him  at  once  the  lion  and  the  ora- 
cle of  the  tavern  at  which  we  lodge. 

"  Distribute  for  me,  with  impartial  justice,  & 
thousand  loves  among  the  dear  ones  in  our  fami- 
ly circle,  and  tell  Evy  that  I  shall  not  write  again, 
as  I  propose  to  follow  my  letter  in  the  course 
of  a  few  days. 

"  Now  and  ever  your  aflTectionate  brother, 
"Reuinald  Brandon." 


THE     END. 


